Immortal Memories
by wouldbewriter23
Summary: When it comes to their attention that they know next to nothing about their new memeber, the Guardians set off to find out about Jack's past. But when Jack offers no answers and brings up many concerns, it leaves only one option. His tooth box.
1. Chapter 1

The thing about being connected to all nature was that she was well aware of what went on in her realm. She was Mother Nature, she knew _everything_. Why the brat even tried to sneak up on her was beyond her. Really, did he honestly think she wouldn't notice? Deciding to push down the annoyance she went about her business.

In all the world, she considered only the Amazon forest to be her home. It was old and that called out to her. Really the whole world was her's, and could be her home, but here she felt more calm and peaceful here than anywhere else and it was—why wasn't the brat leaving! She gave a mental groan and accepted that she was going to have to deal with him.

"Can I help you?" She called and from the stuttering feet, he was not expecting her to notice his presence. She rolled her eyes. Really.

"The fact that you even think that you can sneak up on me is insulting," she informed, turning to face the man.

He matched her in height, however any similarities stopped there. He was pale and light where she was tanned and dark; bald with light eyes while she had a head of dark hair down to her waist with eyes of gold. He was round where she was lanky, dressed in lights silks and she in a dark gown. She crossed her arms and starred the man down, waiting.

"You seemed busy."

"I'm making time."

"I thought we could talk."

"We don't talk," she said with a snort. "You only come down off your rock when you need something. Now, let's try this again; what do you want?"

The Tsar Lunanoff, or as many knew him the Man in the Moon, balked looking somewhat abashed. He smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"I suppose we should do something to remedy that," he offered. Nature only raised a brow, awaiting the response to the question. He sighed. So much for pleasantries.

"I wish for us to discuss Jack Frost's inclusion into the Guardians."

And just like that, any pleasant domineer that might have existed in the conversation vanished. The woman's face went blank and her eyes alit in anger.

"No," she said shortly, turning on her heels in dismissal of the conversation.

"Sera—"

"NO! We are not on first name basis right now."

"Pitch is rising again."

"Your problem, not mine," she informed, still stalking away.

"They will need the help. He's more powerful than I've seen in years; he's able to walk in the light, corrupt dreams, he—'

"What part of 'not my problem', did you miss?!"

She whirled to face him, pretty face screwed up in anger. Her eye all but burned in rage, her teeth were barred in a snarl, and to be honest there was quite the resemblance to Pitch in that moment. An observation that he very wisely kept to himself.

"I don't _care_ what the shadow is up to. I made it very clear when you brought this hell to my world that you were to LEAVE. ME. OUT OF IT!" They were nose to nose now, heavy glares on both sides. "You are not dragging my little boy into your blood feud, understand?"

Point made and rage simmering down, she turned away. Firmly ignoring the Moon spirit, she focused her attention on tending the forest vegetation. The man took a calming breath; working with the spirit of nature was always so aggravating.

"Seraphina," the woman's shoulders stiffened at her name and the man pushed on before she could respond, "the boy is a Guardian. I've known that since I helped you create him."

"I knew it. I _knew_ you had an agenda there." She turned back, once again fuming in anger.

"Yes, it's who he is, we both know it."

"Don't pretend to know anything about him. At least I tried to be a part of his life!"

When Lunanoff dropped his head, Sera continued on.

"Do you have any idea what you've put him through? Every time I see him, it's 'why won't you talk to him?' or 'what did he do wrong?' Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see him like that? Do you?"

"It pains me as much as you. I could not speak to him, and it hurt. Sera, he's mine as much as he is yours."

"You want to drag him into a war. You don't do that to someone you care for." Her voice was lowered to a whisper to match his, eyes shining with concern for the boy she considered her son.

"He'll be well protected."

The woman snorted and rolled her eyes, bitter amusement replacing concern.

"Your Guardians have had three hundred years to protect him. And they have failed _epically_. I have no confidence that anything will change. I don't trust them."

"You've known some of them your entire life."

"Personal relationships aside, I don't trust them with my boy."

"Sera, the boy doesn't deserve this. I may not have been in his life, but I can see how he's been hurting.

"The way you're trying to protect him is _hurting_ him. You can only be in his life so much, and he needs more." Sera shook, her lip trembled. Seeing the weakness, he pushed on. "The Guardians will give him what he needs; the attention, Believers, his memories. He needs this."

Sera let out a shriek, turning away to strike a tree. The earth trembled with her rage and sorrow.

"I hate you! I hate you so much!"

The Moon stood quietly while she reigned in her emotions, her back still facing him. He sighed once more, accepting defeat for the moment. There was still time before Pitch made his move, still time to convince her. But for now the argument was over.

"I don't understand why you continue to interact with me if you feel as such. You came to me when you wanted to make Jackson a spirit, and I do not understand why you would do so with such animosity toward me.

"But all I ask is that you think it over. And think of Jack." When she only continued to stare ahead, he sighed once more and prepared to leave. She spoke before he could depart.

"There's only five of us."

He came to a stop, looking over at her. She still hadn't turned.

"That's all that remains, of our way of life, of where we came from. I can't bring myself to cut contact with any of you."

He moved forward, coming to a stop just behind her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. He could never quite understand her pain. He'd been only a babe when the Golden Age came crashing down; he had no memory of anything other than the moon. But he could understand holding on to the survivors of the fall, the only ones old enough to understand one another.

"I pity you." Sera's voice pulled him back to the situation at hand.

"I at least have memories of it. I can't imagine what it's like to know nothing." She turned to him.

"It's difficult," he admitted. "I hear stories about the worlds my parents ruled, the majesty and beauty, but that's all they are. Stories." He met her gaze with a searching one of his own, smiling shyly.

"Will you tell me?" He requested and her eye brows shot up in surprise that had him laughing. "I have a feeling the stories are rather idealized," he explained and she laughed as well with a nod of agreement.

"I'm starting to remember why I put up with you." She motioned for the man to follow, summoning a tangle of vines to serve of sitting.

"Come, sit. I will tell you of where we came from. And we will discuss Jack's inclusion to your little club."

The Tsar followed eagerly, looking excited for both conversations. Sera spun back to face him, bringing the man to a halt. Her eyes blazed once more, drawing his undivided attention.

"Just remember, if anything happens to my child, I will rain fiery hell upon you in retribution," she promised. And the man believed her fully. He nodded his comprehension and like a switch was flipped; her face went from terrifying to pleasant.

"Good, now, let us speak."

The man shook his head. There was never a dull moment when speaking to Mother Nature.


	2. Chapter 2

_1712_

Jack was sitting curled up against a tree just next to his lake—already he was thinking of it as_ his_ lake; after all, it was all he knew—with his knees pressed to his chest. He was afraid, confused, shaken. It had been three days since he'd woken from his lake, and it had been the same every time. He'd go to the town, or any other near-by settlement, and try to get the attention of the people mulling around.

And every time, day or night, they walked straight through him. Like he wasn't even there.

It not only hurt physically, but also utterly terrified him. Why, _how_ could they just walk through him like that? What was wrong with him? Did he do something, did he deserve it? Why was this happening?

He'd glanced up at the moon, hoping for some kind of comfort, or explanation, from the voice that had greeted him when he'd awoken. And was greeted with a whole lot of _nothing_. Just like every other night. Jack had sighed and just pulled his knees tighter against his chest, clinging to his staff.

"Oh, my sweet boy."

Jack's head had jerked up at the voice. Was someone talking to him? Really talking to him? He'd glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice. When he didn't find anyone, he'd just dropped his head back to his knees, more miserable now that the possibility that someone was really there was ripped away. Then his head had just shot right back up when he'd felt a hand on his shoulder.

His lip started to trembled when he'd realized it was a very real person crouching next to him and looking him in the eye. Her golden eyes shined with concern as she looked him over. When she ran a gentle hand through his hair, he'd all but thrown himself into her arms, weeping into her chest. It would have struck him as somewhat stupid, doing so with an utter stranger – something in his mind told him he wasn't supposed to trust strangers – but he was too thrilled with the fact that someone could see him to care very much. The woman hadn't seemed to mind much, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She'd rocked and shushed him, whispering comforts in his ears.

"It's alright, baby. It's okay. I'm so sorry, I didn't think you would wake so soon. I would have been here sooner," she'd whispered.

Jack had blinked rapidly, confused at the words. He'd pushed back, looking up at her, trying to blink away the tears.

"Why don't they see me? What's wrong with me?"

"No, no," she'd hushed, "nothing is wrong with you."

"Then why can't they see me?"

"They don't believe in you, dear. Humans need to in order to see spirits," she'd explained, voice soft and eyes trained on his face, filled with warmth and comfort.

"Spirits?" He'd asked, blinking up at the woman.

"That's what we are."

"How do you know that? What do you mean you should have been here?"

"I mean exactly what I said. If I'd known you were waking up so soon, I would have been."

"Why would you have known."

"I made you, dear."

"I thought the Moon did," Jack had protested.

"Well, he helped too. A little," the woman conceded, giving an annoyed eye roll.

Jack had just looked up at her, more confused than ever. He choked back more tears as he looked up her, begging for answers.

"Why won't he talk to me? Did I do something?"

"No, no baby, you didn't do anything," she'd looked stricken by the idea, "you did nothing wrong," she'd reassured, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Who are you?"

"Mother Nature," she'd supplied, giving a small smile.

"Or, if you like," she'd paused, looking nervous for a moment, "mom?"

He'd looked up at her. Mom? Did he want her to be mom? He didn't know anything about her, she was a stranger. Could he trust her?

The look on her face was only concerned and caring. He'd smiled, and leaned back into her embrace as an answer. He may not have known her, but she could see him, and so far no one else could. And he felt safe in her arms.

She felt like a mom, and he'd liked the idea of having one.

-Line Break—Line Break—Line Break-

_2012_

The landing at the Pole was rocky and abrupt. Even with the man's normal touchdowns, North always seemed to crash the death machine that he thought of as his sleigh. Bunny groaned as he rolled out of the sleigh, stretching and massaging sore muscles he'd held in stiff terror during the flight. Jack chuckled as he filed out behind him. When the rabbit Guardian looked back, thinking to give the winter spirit a steely glare fir mocking his misery, the boy was tenderly holding his chest, his shoulders heaving and his breathing heavy and Bunny felt a twinge of concern. The boy had taken a rather nasty fall in the fight, he may have bruised, even broken a few ribs. Catching his look, Jack gave him a small smile and moved inside. Bunny filed the worry away for another time and followed the younger spirit inside. Once inside Bunny made a dash for the nearest fire, muttering complaints about the cold. The others smiled and followed Bunny's lead, all settling into seats brought into the globe room.

Jack kicked his heels against the base of his chair as the room settled into a somewhat awkward silence, only the crackle of the fire breaking it. Jack shifted in his seat, tossing about to look up at the ceiling, the wall, the fire, until boredom finally got the best of him. He pushed up out of the chair with a sigh, drawing his older team members out of their thoughts.

"I'm going to go get the yeti to make me some food," he announced, strolling out of the room.

"Jack do not torment the yeti!" North called after him. If Jack heard the call, he didn't respond.

"Let him go, mate. If he's out botherin' the workers, he's not buggin' us. Namely me."

That got him some glares, but Bunny only shrugged it off. They fell back into silence. Sandy dosed off where he hovered by the fire, Tooth sat with a cluster of her fairies, occasionally whispering to them or glancing over at the sleeping Sandman. His condition was a source of worry she intended to check up on as soon a possible. North and Bunny just starred off into space, mulling over their own thoughts. Tooth let out a sigh and drew the attention of the others in the room. The fairy was gazing to where Jack had walked out, looking concerned.

"Do you think he's alright?" She asked nervously.

"Kid took quite the beatin'. He was nursin' chest, we might want ta check on him," Bunny added, thinking back to their arrival. At Tooth's concerned whine he gave her a comforting look.

"Ah'm sure he's fine, Toothy. Kid's resilient; takes more than a little knock ta take him down."

"I just worry."

"Well it's about time. I was starting to think you'd never really care about him."

At the new voice everyone jump to attention, jolting Sandy out of his light slumber. The voice echoed through the room, lightly accented and for a moment they feared another attack from Pitch. They turned about, trying to find the speaker, a cold ball settling in their chests at the feel of déjà vu.

"You really outta consider improving your security, North. It was pathetically easy to get in here."

The voice solidified to one source, and though it was clearly female and therefore not Pitch, the four where still nervous when they turned to meet the source. It was a dark, lanky, regal woman, watching them with golden eyes filled with a small amount of amusement and large portions of annoyance. Well, not Pitch but a close second.

"Mother Nature," North said by way of greeting. The nature spirit nodded back.

"What are you doing here?" The big man pressed.

"Nice to see you, too."

"Answer the question, Sera," Bunny insisted.

"What do you want?" Annoyance crept into North's tone. A sharp grin crawled over the woman's face.

"Oh, you mean am I here on family business?"

That had the Guardians reaching for their weapons. Her smiled grew and she shook her head like she was dealing with obnoxious children.

"Not the kind you think," she assured.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, the nature spirit and the childhood spirits staring each other down. Seraphina kept a smug smile on her sharp face. The image was so like Pitch that the tension in the room very nearly boiled over. Which was of course the point that Jack decide to waltz back into the room.

"I got the yeti to make us pizza!" He announced, completely oblivious to the situation.

"I've never had it, but the kids seem to really like it, so I'd figure we'd give it a go. It should be done in about twenty minutes."

Sera's face softened the second Jack came into the room, a full smile lighting her up as she watched him ramble on. When Jack didn't register her presence, and the Guardians only stared at him wide eyed, she cleared her throat to get his attention. The winter boy's attention snap to her, and his face slackened in surprise.

"Hi," he greeted, giving a small wave.

"Hi? Is that all I get?" She asked, raising a brow.

Jack shrugged. Sera continued to watch him expectantly, and Jack winced. He motioned to the Guardians, making a small whine. The nature spirit only cocked her head and waited. Jack slumped and trudged forward, giving an occasional groan as he marched. Sera rolled her eyes, partially at the concerned calls from the other Guardians when the boy came to a stop within arm's length of her at also at Jack's whiny attitude as he stood slumped in front of her.

"Dear, it's not going to kill you."

"But…" He waved at the Guardians who still gaped at them.

She only rolled her eyes and stood with her arms slightly opened, waiting. Jack groaned and slumped again. Then he stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around her torso. Sera wrapped her own arms around the slim boy, ignoring the confused or worried sounds coming from the Moon spirits, resting her head against Jack's snowy locks, enjoying the feel of holding her boy. Then she shoved him back and placed a big, slobbery kiss on his brow. Which Jack protested to with a loud whine.

"Mom!" He griped.

"You should've just given me the hug, you little shit," she snorted, giving Jack's forehead a flick.

Jack laughed and stuck his tongue out, while Tooth gave a look to her fellow Guardians. 'Mom?' she mouthed, earning shrugs from the others.

"Are you alright?" She asked, firmly ignoring the others.

"I'm fine."

"As fine as you can be after a battle," she corrected.

Jack smiled and shrugged and then winced at the painful twinge in his chest. Sera's brows furrowed in concern and she eyed the boy. She tugged at his sweat shirt, trying to pull it up and examine his chest, even as Jack batted at her hands. He yanked at her arms when she became more persistent, trying to twist out of her grip.

"Mom, mom stop it," he complained.

"Mom, they're right there. Mom they're watching!"

Sera fought with his hands, determined to see what was wrong. She didn't care right now how much Jack didn't want her attention. Her baby was hurt and she needed to see. Then she would she would tear Lunar and his Guardians a new one for letting her little boy get hurt, for failing to protect him, she would make them pay—

"_Mom, would you stop trying to strip me in front of my friends_!" Jack shrieked.

Sera snapped out of her daze looking at Jack, then to the Guardians. They all watched the two with expressions of worry, confusion and amusement. She sighed and released her grip on the hoodie.

"Fine. But we _will_ look at that, and you will not complain," she ordered with a stern look.

Jack rolled his eyes with a huff. The reaction – and the entire situation – got a snorted laughter out of Bunny. Which drew the woman's attention back to the four, and hardened her expression.

"Right now, I need to have a chat with your new friends."

"Okay," Jack agreed, confused at the sharp tone and the rather frightening expression that crossed her face.

"Alone, dear," she clarified.

"What? No, no you can't just send me out of the room!"

"Watch me," she countered with a snort.

"No! I'm not a little kid!"

"Jack," Sera warned, anger rising.

"No! Okay? Anything you want to say to them you can say in front of me! I don't care—"

"Jackson!"

Jack's jaw clamped shut with an audible click. The two spirits stared at one another before Jack sighed and slumped under his mother's glare. He pouted and crossed his arms.

"This is not cool," he whined.

"Duly noted." When she nodded to motion the boy out, Jack marched off, grumbling all the way.

"And no ease dropping!" She called as an afterthought.

"Damn it!" He complained, stomping his foot.

"Excuse me?"

Jack stuttered, came to a halt and glanced back to meet the nature woman's steely gaze. He winced, curled in on himself and almost ran out of the room with a mumble 'sorry'. Sera sighed and gently massaged her forehead before turning back to the older Guardians.

"Any chance ya can teach us ta do that," Bunny inquired, shifting under the woman's gaze.

"It's rather simple: you have to be his mother. And you are on the very top of my short list right now, so I suggest you shut it," she snapped. Sera opened her mouth to continue before stopping, tilting her head to the side. Her brows once again furrowed in annoyance and a new level of terrifying expression fell over her face.

"Jackson Overland Frost, get your little ass out of this room this instant!"

The shout had the four jumping with a start, glancing around. There was a loud thump off to the side and then the slap of bare feet against the floor as Jack fled. Sera pinched the bridge of her nose while Bunny wondered whatever sense had alerted her to Jack presence; even he hadn't noticed the boy.

"That boy is going to give me grey hairs, I swear it.

"Where was I?" She asked, glancing at the group.

"Short list," Bunny supplied.

"Right, yes. Thank you.

"Really you all are; to say I'm displeased with your job so far in taking care of my boy is putting it mildly. Not to say that I had too high expectations to begin with."

"What do you mean? Of course we would protect boy; is our job!" North protested.

"Oh yes, because you've proven yourselves completely competent in that area with him," she muttered dryly.

"What are you talking about?" North pressed.

"Really? Do you want examples from the last three hundred years or just the last three days? I've got plenty for both."

It wasn't overly necessary. Aside from North, the Guardians were well aware of what she was getting at. The other three were wincing, looking plenty guilty, but she pushed on anyway.

"Let's stick with the last three days, it's fresher in your minds.

"For starters: you kidnapped him. Not pleased with that, by the way. Then you dragged him into the middle of a war zone, putting his life in danger numerous times. And to top it all off, you abandoned him. Left him alone and vulnerable with a power hungry psychopath running around, who had already taken an uncomfortably high interest in him and, might I add, has a bit of a _history_ targeting your younger team members!

"Do I need to go on?"

She was at least temporarily satisfied with the collective head shake answering her question. North back down, looking embarrassed and mortified, an expression matched by Bunny, and Tooth looked on the brink of tears. It really sounded awful when put that way.

Sandy, on the other hand, just looked confused. The first two he got, but the last… he sighed a three and a question mark, inquiring about the last point.

"Oh you wouldn't know about that, Sanderson. You were… dead, at the time. Apologies, by association for that," she added, giving the Sandy an apologetic look.

Sandy waved it off. After all, it wasn't fair to blame her for the actions of her crazy relative.

"I fail to see why this concerns you," North spat, pushing back guilt for the time being.

Sera snorted and focused her attention back on the Christmas spirit

"He's my child," she snapped back, tone icy.

"Is impossible. Jack is Guardian, and so is spirit of Moon."

The spirit of Nature broke down into nearly hysterical giggles. And again, the sound was far too much like Pitch. She finally straightened, wiping away a tear.

"Really, your stupidity baffles me," she went on, ignoring the way North bristled. "As much as you love to think the Lunar brat is all powerful, the Seasons are, and always will be _my_ domain.

"He could not have made a winter spirit without my assistance," she concluded, and stood back to wait for the information to sink in.

The Tooth Fairy blinked, trying to piece it together before she spoke,

"So… Jack is a Nature spirit?" But that couldn't be. Jack had to be a Moon spirit to be chosen as a Guardian.

"Well, it's more a joint custody situation. He technically belongs to both of us."

"So yer his parents," Bunny threw in, pushing back a laugh when Sera's eye twitched.

"_Yes_," she hissed. "But more to the point: my faith in your ability to take care of him is nil. I'm willing to give you the chance to improve. _One_ chance.

"Take care of my boy or you'll pay," she ordered, turning on her heels and gliding out of the room.

"What, that's it?" Bunny called. Usually Sera was much more graphic in death threats.

"I prefer to leave details to the imagination." She turned back to face them, "but it will make the Boogeyman look like child's play."

She winked and strolled out.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

Jack sat perched on the edge of the roof, turning his tooth box over in his hand when Sera came to find him. The woman sat next to him, swinging her feet in the air and glancing at his face every so often.

"How bad?" He finally asked with a wince, preparing for the worst. Sera mad full eye contact, riddling out what he meant.

"On a scale of one to ten, one being a small slap on the wrist and ten being I destroyed any chance you have of a social life: I'd say a five." She shrugged, giving him a grin.

Jack smiled and shook his head, somewhat relieved.

"I thought it was going to be a lot worse. I thought you were going to skin them."

"It was tempting," she admitted.

The boy laughed again and they lapsed into silence, staring into the horizon. Sera found her gaze wander to the box in Jack's hands. She sighed, recognizing the smiling face on the end, and realized it was a topic that needed discussing.

"How much did you see?" She questioned gently, motioning to the box. Jack looked down, then to her.

"Only a little. My sister and….. when I, how I….." and that was what needed discussing. He turned to him, eyes blazing. "Why didn't you ever tell me?!"

Sera sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. She tightened her grip when he tried to shake her off, held firm until he tired out.

"Many reasons," she began. "I'd hoped you'd remember on your own, I didn't want to push you. But, I think the base of it was cowardice. I didn't want you to know.

"What you did was wonderful," she interrupted when he turned to her, outraged. "It was brave and amazing. But it's also something that's very difficult to come to terms with. Isn't it?" She pushed. Jack hesitated, the nodded, tears lining his eyes.

"I'm not sorry. I'm proud of what I did; I save her. But…"

"I know, honey," she whispered, grasping his hand.

"Do you think…. my mom, do you think….. it wrong to her, that I still think of you as my mom?"

Sera's heart melted and she had to blink back her own tears. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. She lifted the hand holding the case, gazing at it.

"I don't know. But if that makes you happy, I don't think she would mind."

Jack looked up at her, smiled and snuggled into her hold. They sat there for a time and Jack basked in the comfort of Sera's hold.

"I'm proud of you. I want you to know that: so very proud."

Jack smiled up at her again. She smiled back. Ruffled his hair and moved to get up. Jack latched on to her arm.

"Could you… can you stay for dinner?"

He smiled sweetly, fluttering his lashes. Sera laughed, shaking her head in amusement. Really, this boy.

"Why not?"


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was flying south over the United States when he had his first lapse in control over his powers. It was also the first spirit he met a spirit aside from Sera.

He was over Texas, headed for South America to give a small dusting on the Chilean mountians, a direct order from his mother, when it happened. The thing about a direct order from the Queen of Nature herself, was that the order had to be followed. Sooner rather than later, for if the desired action wasn't preformed, the power would be forced out of its carrier. No matter where they were.

Jack however, Jack did not know this. He'd never met anyone other than Sera who could tell him so; and Sera felt no need to tell him, because Jack had never shown any sign of disobeying her. In fact Jack had never felt the need to do so, never, ever even considered going against her. Until then, at least.

Because he was still a teenager. And his mother was a very overbearing and protective woman. A bit of rebellion was bound to come about.

He'd felt a painful twinge in his chest earlier that evening, and everthing in him told him to race to Chile. When it got steadily worse over the course of the night, he finally decided to follow his insticts. After all, there was a point where stubborn rebellion turned to stupidity. And he'd long passed it.

He was just over Texas when the pain knocked him out of the sky. As soon as he hit the ground, snow and ice tore out of his chest, leaving him screaming and withering on the ground, helpless against it. When it was over, he curled up against the echos of pain, holding back sobs and pulling his knees to his chest. It hurt, it hurt so much. As soon as the pain faded away, he finally sat up and looked around.

Uh-oh.

Everything around him was pure white, covered in ice and snow. He winced, nibbled at his lip and rubbed his arm ruefully. Mom was going to be _so _pissed.

"What did you do?!" A voice shrieked behind him, making Jack jump. Wait a minute, that wasn't mom.

He turned around slowly, taking in the spirit in front of him. It was a teenager, not much older than him he realized with a thrill. A teenage boy with dark eyes and red hair, just a bit taller than Jack and just as thin. He jogged forward, the angry tone from the older boy forgotten in the exictement of having a friend his own age. There was so much they could do together! They could go to Chile together, play in the snow, go to some of Jack's other favorite areas. This was so great! He was stopped by a rough hand to his chest.

"What did you do?!" the boy repeated, and Jack was starting to think being friends wasn't going to happen when the taller boy shoved him back and off his feet, a snarl on his face.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident." The explanation came off a bit whiney but Jack couldn't find the to care too much. The other spirit was scaring him.

"You think I'm going to believe that, you Winter bastard?!" He growled, yanking Jack to his feet by the arm. "You did it on purpose, admit it!"

He shook Jack roughly, gripping his arm so tightly the smaller boy thought it would break. He blinked back tears as the older teen continued to yell obsenities and demands for him to confess, his grip tightening all the while. His fingers dug into Jack's arm, followed by a horrible burning and Jack finally let out a scream.

"Let go!" He cried, yanking at the spirit's arm when he only smiled cruely. "That hurts, let me go!"

The older boy laughed, dragging the younger closer. The burning feeling grew and Jack swore he could smell his flesh burning. The spirit twisted Jack's arm, getting another scream, laughing all the while. The sound pierced through his pain and fear enough for anger to take control. With an enraged shout of 'I said LET. GO!' he, twisting his body to the side and back so he could manuver his staff, shoot a blast of winter magic through his staff.

The spirit flew back and Jack stumbled away, cradeling his arm as he examined it. There was a hand print burned into his forearm. It stung and throbbed horribly and he tucked it back against his chest when the spirit climbed back to his feet. He eyed Jack, and the staff the winter boy was aiming at him, and recognition lit in his eyes.

"I know who you are," he mumbled, stalking forward. "You're Seraphina's special baby boy, arentcha?"

Jack stumbled back, eyeing the spirit as he advanced.

"What does she see in you, huh? All I see is a whiny little brat."

Jack jumped on the wind as the other boy lunged for him, zipping away as fast as he could.

"Don't think this is over!" Jack heard him shout and he shuttered and flew faster.

-Line Break— Line Break—Line Break-

"…..it's not an excuse, but… we weren' really in our best's minds right then. And it looked like he… so we sent him off," Bunny explained, turning his gaze from Sandy's enraged stare.

The dream spirit looked to North and Tooth, who both ducked away under his glare. It _wasn't_ an excuse. No matter how broken up they were about his 'death' or losing Easter, there was no excuse to leave Jack vulnerable to Pitch. Leaving a child to that monster when he'd already hurt so many was beyond any excuse!

"We know Sandy!" Bunny snapped as the Sandman unconsciously signed his thoughts. "We know we bollixed things up. We know it wasn't acceptable." Bunny sighed and tugged at his ears in distress.

"Ah'm just glad the kid is alright."

"That depends on your definition of 'alright'."

Bunny jumped with a strangled yelp –and he knew instantly he would never be able to live that down. He sent Sera a glare as she stood just behind him.

"Sera, really with the dramatic entrance?!"

"Family quirk," she retorted, earning an eye roll from the four.

"What do you mean? About Jack," she clarified when the other woman threw her an amused look. Amusement vanished to bitterness.

"If your definition of 'alright' is having your fractured ribs wrapped from being tossed into a chasm in the Artic, then yeah, he's peachy."

Tooth gave a worried gasp, hands flying to her mouth.

"When?"

"Take a guess, Toothiana."

"Pitch?" Bunny asked, fully ready to track the Boogeyman down and rip his arms off.

"Damn it," he groaned when he got a nod in return.

"Why are you still here?" North growled, sick of the woman dragging so much guilt into the situation.

"Jack invited me to stay for dinner."

"Of course he did," Bunny grumbled. "Sera, why in the world would you team up with Manny to make a spirit? You aren't exactly a sharer," he pointed out, thinking back on her protective—and rather possessive – attitude toward Jack.

"It was a necessity. I could make the boy a spirit but I couldn't give him life. So Lunar's help was needed," she explained, looking none-to-happy about it.

"And he needed to be given life…..why?"

"That's not my story to tell, Aster. Jack will never forgive me. If you really what to know about the boy, I suggest you do your research.

"Now, let's try that pizza Jack's been going on about," she declared.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

Jack wandered back into the room right on the heels of the pizza, bouncing happily. The steaming pizza was so big it hardly fit on the table, and apparently Jack had requested every topping known to man. Bunny eyed the monstrosity as a gargantuan slice was placed on his plate. He looked over at Jack who chatted in between his bites next to Sera, sighed, and began picking off the various meats.

There were bits of chatter while the pizza was devoured, mostly by Jack. There were several checks on Sandy's condition – again, Jack – as well as pleasant banter, something even Sera joined in on. It turned out Mother Nature could be quite friendly when she wasn't dishing out death threats.

Once everyone was pleasantly full, they trailed back to the globe room. Sera hovered over Jack the entire way, either keeping a hand on his shoulder or just looming over him. It was only once champagne was distributed – not to Jack, Sera was very clear on that point when North tried, giving the big man a look that had him cowering like a child – did she move to the outskirts. Bunny followed shortly after.

They stood in silence for a time, watching Jack. He stood with North, Tooth and Sandy in front of a pyramid of frozen elves.

"What is he doing?" Aster asked, watching the kid roll a large ball at the pyramid and nock it over.

"He's teaching them the skills of 'elf bowling'. Which he just made up," she added, smiling.

Bunny snorted and continued watching. He glanced over at her occasionally, taking in her soft smile, something he hadn't seen in a long time. Not that he'd seem her in just as long. He sighed and just basked in the company of his oldest friend.

"I've missed this," he muttered. Sera glanced over, raising a brow. "Missed you." Sera smiled, turning to face him fully.

"Me too. But there are reasons that we don't spend time together," she informed him, turning back to watch her boy.

Bunny sighed again, running a paw over his ears when they sank against his back. Yeah, there were reasons, painful reasons, that they didn't see one another. Or, well, one. Pushing the topic away, he focused on the way she watched Jack.

"Ya really care about him, don't ya?"

"He's my baby," she said in agreement.

"So, tell me, does he know about the _rest_ of his 'family'?"

Sera finally tore her gaze away from Jack, eying the rabbit out of the corner of her eye. A sharp grin, nearly bitter, crawled over her face.

"You mean, have I told him that the Boogeyman is technically his grandfather? No, we haven't gotten to that conversation just yet."

"Does Pitch know? Does he?" He pushed when Sera didn't answer. That was a rather important piece of information; they did _not_ need Pitch using that against Jack when they fought again.

"Sera?" He pushed. The woman winced. "Sera! You told Pitch before you told Jack?!"

"Well, it's not so much that I told him; it's more of he was…. present, for when Jack was born."

Bunny let a disbelieving breath out of his nose. Well, that wasn't ideal, but they would deal with that bridge when they came to it. After Sera broke the news to the kid.

"How'd he take that?" He asked, giving a small grin. Pitch wouldn't take to well to knowing his daughter had teamed up with his arch enemy, for anything, let alone the creation of a spirit that would become a Guardian.

"Oh, he was eight kinds of pissed, I'm pretty sure he disowned me."

Bunny chortled at the idea, and Sera quickly joined in. Yes, this was nice. They hadn't been able to laugh together in a long time.

"Did ya chew him out too?" he asked when they got themselves under control.

"No, but we will be having a few choice words when I get him back on his feet."

Bunny's smile slipped off his face like water. He looked at the woman incredulously, and when she noticed he'd gone quiet, Sera turned to him.

"You're going to do what?" He ventured, anger seeping in to his voice.

"He'll need help, I can't just leave him."

"Sera, why do ya do this? Why do ya keep contact with him, give him help when he doesn't deserve any of it?!"

Sera looked down at her hands, wringing them together as she sighed. When she looked back up, any trace of warmth was gone, replaced by a stony mask with just a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

"I can't just leave him. No matter what's happened, what he's done….he's still my dad, Aster," she explained, sounding like she was close to weeping, looking at the rabbit and willing him to understand.

"And…there's some part of him…. that's more and more like the man who was really my father. I can't give up on that. Are you going to tell me you didn't notice it either?!" She demanded when Aster only let out a dubious laugh.

"No, last time Ah saw him he was in the middle of _destroying my holiday_!" He yelled with a glare, leaning in until they were nose to nose. They stared at each other for a moment before Sera gave a heavy sigh.

"And this is why we avoid one another," she whispered sadly.

Aster deflated, ears drooping. It was true; this was how any of their conversations always ended. Because Sera still held onto the desperate hope that there was still some shred of her father still in Pitch Black. And Aster could never forgive the man for destroying his people. It made get togethers very difficult considering the topic of Pitch was almost impossible to avoid.

"I should be going."

"Sera—"

"I've over stayed my welcome Aster," she insisted. Moving to leave despite Bunny's protests, Sera paused, turning back.

"I would like to ask you to look after him."

"Ya already did that," Bunny snarked, looking to lightened the mood.

"That was a threat to you as a group," she shot back, smirking. She grew serious after a second, looking at him imploringly.

"This is me asking you as a friend. Aster, please, please look after my little boy."

Bunny looked down at the boy in question, watching him cheer at getting a strike, jumping with his arms held high. He looked so young in that moment, so much like one of the children he'd do recently sworn to protect. And Bunny decided with that realization that he would do it for more than a request for Sera's request.

"I will," he promised. He was long over- due in his duties for Jack, and now was the perfect time to start.

Sera nodded and went down to say goodbye to her boy.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, I noticed I'd started a bit of a pattern in the second chapter with connections in the past. So I added one to the third chapter and in this one. Hope you like it.**

Over the years, Jack had several encounters with the other spirits of the world. None of them ever came close his first with the summer spirit – thank god, Sera hadn't let him out of her sight for months after that, both in an overprotective frenzy and a form of grounding for disobeying and getting himself into that situation; it was hell – but none were overly pleasant, either. And in sixty years, he'd only met Nature spirits. It was only when he heard some of the children speaking giddily of 'Santa Claus' on what they called 'Christmas Eve', that Sera told him of the other group. Moon spirits.

Spirits of the man in the moon, the Tsar Lunar, who had given Jack his name and assisted in his creation. They were well known in the human world, holiday and childhood icons, whereas as those of Nature were unknown causes of weather. And she told him how the popularity often made Moon spirits rude and arrogant; and the lack of attention made many Nature spirits jaded and cruel, which explained the summer spirit encounter.

And she told him of the Guardians. The Guardians of Childhood; Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman. It was like magic to hear of these fairy-tale protectors, and made Jack's eyes sparkle with wonder. So he set out to find them.

Santa was the best choice; his location was the only of the four that was well known. The Tooth Fairy and Sandman traveled every night, and the Easter Bunny only showed up on Easter. So he went north. He spent days scouring the tundra of the North Pole, until he finally found the workshop, sitting grandly in the ice. He flew to the nearest window, peaking in, dazzled. Inside were piled of beautifully wrapped packages. He slipped through the window, gazing at the gifts as he wandered through the hall. He was so captivated by the gifts that he didn't notice he wasn't alone until he ran face first into a fall a fur. Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was lifted off his feet and thrown over a broad, furry shoulder. He tried to glance around as he was carried off, at the workshop or at what was carrying him, but he was tossed into the snow before he saw much of anything. The furry thing that had tossed him outside was a gigantic thing and wagged a finger at him as it garbled at him before walking back inside.

What was that? He wondered for a moment. Then he smirked, a game forming in his mind. It was on!

After months of failed attempts of trying to get into the workshop, Jack decided it was time to move on. No give up – he was going to get in there, those yetis were going _down_! – but he wasn't getting any closer to Santa by trying to break in, fun as it was. So, he went to the next Guardian.

He decided to try the Tooth Fairy. Easter was still several months away, and staying out every night for the Sandman was out of the question—mom would never allow it. Besides, a little girl in the village near his lake had lost a tooth, so it was ideal. He camped out by the window, determined to wait as long as it took –he also kept an eye for the Sandman, since he was there anyway. He'd just saw the golden stream trailing across the night sky and was almost willing to chase after those in favor of sitting at the window when he caught sight of a tiny green and blue blur out of the corner of his eye. He whirled around and saw the same blur, this time catching it gently in his hands. Peeking into his cupped palms, he saw a tiny bird-like woman clutching a tooth, glaring up at him in defiance.

Huh. That was not what he was expecting. Didn't mom say the Tooth Fairy was a full sized woman? Yes. That's exactly what she said! So what was this? It had a tooth, had collected it from under the girl's pillow, so, what—

"Ow!" he shouted when the tiny thing stabbed the flesh of his palms. He let it go in shock pain, and the dashed back in front of it when it flew off.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said for comfort, smiling. "I just—ah!" he garbled when the little fairy tried to crawl into his mouth, cooing at his teeth. When it – _she_, he corrected, getting a good enough look to determine the gender—crawled back out he coughed and spit out stray feathers, eying her warily. Okay, that was defiantly the weirdest encounter with a spirit _ever_.

"So, are you the Tooth Fairy?" he asked, making sure to keep his teeth covered.

The little bird woman looked shock and shook her head. He furrowed his brow and eyed the tooth in the little hands. Then why…?

"Oh! So are you, like a helper?" He got an affirmative nod ad cheered with a happy smile. The little fairy pawed at his teeth one last time and then zoomed off faster than he could blink.

"Wait!" he called even though she was gone. "Can you take me to her?" Came a dejected whisper. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

So much for the Tooth Fairy.

That only left two, and to be honest, Jack was starting to lose the wonder of the subject. It was becoming more of a chore than adventure or game. And absolutely _no fun_. But now it was a mission and he had to complete it, misery or no. He watched the night sky for months for signs of the Sandman. And every night only got the streams of dream sand. At least they made fun pictures when Jack touched them.

Then Easter arrived. Jack felt the magic revive when the holiday came around. After all, the Easter Bunny was just as exciting as Santa. So he hid through the day, watching children hunt for and find the eggs – and he had to admit, the holiday had to be something very special to cause the children such joy – watching for any sign of the Easter Bunny. It was well into the afternoon, when the children had filed away, that Jack saw him.

He was starting to dose off when he felt the earth rumbled ever so slightly. Peeking up he saw a long pair of ears rise from a suddenly formed hole. He gapped in wonder, watching the rabbit – big. giant, huge, humongous!—emerge from the ground. This was why he'd worked so hard to find these spirits. Totally worth it! He crept from the bush, making his way over to the rabbit hid more brightly colored eggs. He cleared his foot when he was a foot from the rabbit, causing the creature to jump and whirl around to face him.

"Hi, I'm—"He didn't get anything further before he had a boomerang shoved under his nose. He looked up at the taller being, confused and frightened. Not this again.

"You best not be tryin' ta mess with my holiday, Winter brat," the creature warned.

"I'm not—"

"You lot always do. Always wantin' ta take a kick at Spring."

"I didn't—"

"But ya picked the wrong holiday, brat. Yer not kickin' at Spring through my holiday, so get."

"But I—"

"I said get!" The rabbit raised the boomerang in warning and stalked away.

Jack stood in shock, blinking away hurt and angry tears. Why didn't anyone like him? What did he do? Then anger took over and he stomped away.

"Fine! Who needs you people anyway!" he shouted as he flew off.

He certainly didn't. Not at all.

It was another year before he ran into the Sandman. Not that he wanted to at that point; he was sick of the Guardians entirely. Not to say that he didn't still try to get into the Pole anymore, it just wasn't to see Santa anymore. It was just a matter of pride. He didn't need, or want anything to do with the Guardians. They were uppity, terrible, typical Moon spirits. Mom was right about them.

Well, he guessed the Sandman wasn't too bad. He actually gave Jack the time of day and spoke to him, in his own special way. But still, it didn't give him much hope for Moon spirits.

He still didn't need them.

-Line Break—Line Break—Line Break-

The original four Guardians sat in the globe room, sipping at their champagne as they once more lapsed into their own thoughts. Jack had left near an hour before, after a humiliating goodbye hug and kiss from Sera – that his elder Guardians very clearly enjoyed, _far_ too much—saying he was headed back to his lake and then to the areas of the globe where Winter was on the way. He promised to be back for the scheduled meeting next week and dashed out the window. Bunny had a feeling his quick escape was due to the Sera's smothering version of motherly care. The thought made the rabbit Guardian smile.

North sent occasional glance to the window Jack used to make his exit. He didn't like having Jack out of his sight; it worried him. If Jack wasn't with him he couldn't watch over the boy, couldn't keep him safe, there were things out there, like Pitch or worse and Jack was all alone and vulnerable to all of them and he was so _small_—the man gave himself a shake. He'd hardly known the boy for three days; just because Jack was a Guardian did not make him North's responsibility. Or his son, as much as he may have wanted it to be so. The Christmas spirit sighed, brushed a hand through his beard, and went back to staring at the window.

Tooth shot the larger Guardian a concerned look – he was projecting too much worry as he glanced at the window not to trouble her – and glanced at the others as well. Bunny looked lost in his thoughts as he gazed down at his glace and Sandy looked on the verge of dosing off; neither anywhere near as jittery as North. She sighed, noted to ask the big man about it later and glanced down at the small golden tube in her hand.

Her throat closed up and tears stung at the edges of her eyes as she stared down at the small face smiling at her. The face was a shade darker, hair and eyes both a chocolate brown in contrast to pure white and shining blue, but it was still obviously Jack's face she was looking at on this tooth box. The winter boy had given it to her just before he'd left, pushing it into her hands when she'd tried to object. It was his, he deserved to keep it, she'd insisted.

"I know," he'd assured, cutting her off, "I trust you with them."

The declaration almost had her bursting into tears, which she stubbornly forced down. However, she did zip over and pull the boy into a tight hug. It was such a beautiful display of trust. Trust she had no idea why she deserved and it made her so happy she was over the Moon. Until she felt how stiff Jack was in her arms. When she let go to see what was wrong he bolted, leaving shortly after, leaving Tooth worried and confused.

Now she just wondered what she did wrong.

"Something Sera said is botherin' me," Bunny mumbled, almost to himself, but loud enough the others still heard.

"Many things that woman said bother me," North snipped, still gazing out the window.

"Too true, mate. But Ah mean what she said about Jack. About doin' our research. Ah mean, aside from him bein' a right pain, what do we know 'bout him?"

That drew everyone's attention. North and Tooth dropped guilty gazes. Neither had seen anything of Jack prior to his inclusion to the Guardians. Sandy, on the other hand, having jolted fully awake at the question, waved his hand frantically to get their attention. He signed a snowflake, dolphins, two figures sitting side by side with arms slung over each shoulder, indicating that he knew Jack before the battle.

"Yeah, but do ya know anything 'bout his life?"

Sandy sighed silently and shook his head sadly. He signed a snowflake and held his hands a small distant apart. He didn't know Jack very long. They'd only had a few short encounters together.

"Right, so we know next ta nothin' bout' him." There was a sad, collective nod.

"So, how do we fix it?"

"You want to fix it?" Tooth asked, giving Bunny a playful look.

"So what? I'm gonna spend the rest of eternity with the brat, I wanna know 'bout him."

"You sure it was not because tall, pretty, scary woman told you to?" North put in.

"Focus!" He groaned with an eye roll.

"We could ask him." Tooth suggested.

"Tooth, kid's not gonna spill anything 'bout his life cause we ask. Ah know that much 'bout him," Bunny countered with a snort.

"If we all tell stories, Jack will be more open," North added.

Tooth and Sandy perked at the idea, while Bunny deflated. They were going to do what now?

"What? No, no no no no," he protested.

"Aster, this was your idea," Tooth sang, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bunny grumbled and pulled at his ears. What had he gotten himself into?


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was just eighty years old when he met one of the darker powers of the world. He was sitting just at the outskirts of the village, his lake in sight, waiting for Sandy. Even though he was bitter about his experience with the Guardians – so high and mighty they couldn't even give him the time of day; just sent their lackeys to deal with him—Jack didn't stop his meets with the Sandman. Or his attempts to get in the workshop, because he _was_ going to get in there, failure was not an option. Sandy was the only friend he had – aside from mom, but she didn't count – so he couldn't bear to miss a meet, Guardian or no. So he was sitting perched on a tree limb waiting when he saw the shadow.

He'd felt it long before he saw it, a feeling of overwhelming dread had settled on him the moment he arrived. But it only really drew his notice when it moved. He snapped to attention when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He jumped off his perch, staff at the ready as he circled the tree, searching for the threat. It was, of course a threat. There was nothing else it could be. Nothing ever sought him out – snuck up on him—unless it meant harm.

"My, my, paranoid, aren't we?" A silky, voice called from the shadows. It reminded him somewhat of Sera's except for the mocking and _slimy_ tone it carried. "Life hasn't been treating you so well, has it?"

"Who's there?" he called, wondering how this spirit seemed to know what he was thinking. No one could know that, could they? "Where are you?"

The deep chuckle he got in response sent the hairs on the back of his neck straight up. The laugh was full of malice where any laugh should have been filled with joy and light. He didn't like this; he couldn't see the man, he couldn't protect himself if he couldn't see the threat. Where was he?!

"Now, now; no need to fret. I'm right here."

The voice was right behind him, hot breathe on the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. He whirled around, nearly smacking the butt of his staff into a grey face. The man staring him down was a spirit of shadows, they surrounded him, made up his clothes and hair that was slicked over his head, even swam beneath his skin. But other than a shadow spirit, Jack couldn't quite tell what he was. He was tall, looming over Jack and that alone set the winter boy on edge. That along with the sharp smile – full of uneven, very sharp teeth – and the way the man seemed intent on invading his personal space, had Jack in a near panic.

"Hello there," he said softly, smile growing even larger.

"Who are you?" Jack managed to question through his suddenly dry throat.

"You don't know?" And the man looked legitimately surprised by the fact.

"I wouldn't ask if I did, would I?"

The shadow man tsked in disapproval at Jack's tone as he circled the smaller spirit. Jack turned to keep eyes on him at all times, keeping his staff up and trained on the man.

"I'm just offended. They never told you about me?"

"Who?"

"Why, your parents. Your mother, in particular."

"You know mom?" He asked, and immediately cursed himself. There was no way to know if this man really knew his mom; he could have just been spitting out mentions of his parent figure to throw Jack off.

"Oh yes, Sera and I know each other quite well."

"She's never mentioned you," he protested, latching onto that fact. The man already proved that he could read Jack's thoughts on some level; he could have just picked out mom's name.

"No, and I'm not surprised; we had a bit of a falling out some years ago. But more to the point: she hasn't mentioned me?"

"No. Why would she? Who are you?!"

He got that same chuckle again. It was really making him angry. He turned to keep the man in sight and then the dark spirit was suddenly nose to nose with Jack, who gave a start at the proximity.

"I, my dear boy, am Pitch Black. The Boogeyman."

Oh. That Jack recognized, and it went right into his 'not good' column. He didn't think the Boogeyman could cause him much harm, but he also didn't much like the idea of a spirit who's goal in life was to dish out fear.

"You scare the kids," he accused; that was a fact that made him very angry.

"Yes, I do. So they did tell you of me. Very rude to lie, you know," the Boogeyman scolded, looking too amused for the reprimanding expression to be taken seriously.

"I've heard of you; the kids talk about you."

"And your father hasn't mentioned me, at all?" Silver-gold eyes honed in on Jack when the boy bristled at the mention of his 'father'.

"I've had such an influence on both of their lives, you'd think at least _one_ of them would have said something," he murmured, returning to his circling.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack growled, defensive anger raising.

"I'll admit that I'm not too surprised Sera haven't talked about me, it was a rather nasty confrontation we had last I saw her; but I thought Lunar at least would have _warned_ you."

"_He's_ not my dad!"

"Oh? You think of Sera as a parent, but not him?"

"At least she gives me the time of day; unlike him or his Guardians."

The shadow spirit hummed in approval as he circled, making Jack's skin crawl. The last thing he wanted was to agree with this man, on any level.

"The Guardians have been treating you poorly, have they?"

"I respect what they do on a whole, but I don't like the way they treat other spirits."

"That doesn't answer my question, Jack."

"I don't want to answer your question." Yeah, that wiped that ugly smile off his face, Jack thought smugly.

"Look, I don't know what you want, and I don't care. So just get out of my home." He turned on his heels and moved away in dismissal.

That was probably the weirdest meeting he'd ever had with a spirit. He'd defiantly have to ask mom how this 'Pitch Black' knew her, and—wait.

"How do you know my name?" He questioned as he turned back to look at the man.

And once again found said shadowy man greatly invading his personal space—their noses were actually touching this time.

"Don't you turn away from me," the dark spirit growled, and Jack could feel the first stirring of fear as Pitch advanced him.

"As for you question; I know everything about you. I was there when you were born," Jack's back struck a tree in his retreat, and if possible, Pitch invaded his space even more "just out of the moonlight, in the darkness."

Jack cowered, much as he hated to admit it, deeply frightened. This was too close, to confined. He couldn't lift his staff, and if he couldn't move his staff he could defend himself and if he couldn't—

Pitch moved even close – how could he possibly be that close?—and reached forward, moving a spike of his hair from his forehead. He smiled and Jack decided that he really, really didn't like that smile.

"And everything of the darkness belongs to me," he finished, reaching forward again, this time aiming for Jack's cheek.

Jack would have handled it, he was sure. Even if he was frozen in a type of terror he couldn't place, he would have handled it. But before he could do anything – be it to reply or slap the hand away – a whip wrapped around the reaching grey wrist and yanked the rest of the body upward. The cry of surprise that Pitch let out was enough to snap Jack out his paralysis and he let out a shaky laugh. Sandy shook the shadow spirit around a bit, gave him a good – silent—scolding and dropped the taller spirit to the ground, where he promptly slunk back into the shadows.

Jack took several deep, calming breaths, trying to slow his speeding heart. By the time Sandy glided down to him, his heart had stopped trying to jump out of his chest, but he couldn't quite stop the tremors that shook his limbs. The dream spirit gave Jack on concerned look, putting a gentle hand on the younger's shoulder. Jack jumped at the contact, looking up at Sandy in surprise.

"Oh, hey. Thanks, Sandy, thanks for that."

Sandy grew more and more concerned as Jack stumbled over his words. The shoulder under his hand all but vibrated. He drew Jack's gaze, giving the boy a questioning look. '_Are you alright?_'

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I just….I've got to go. Yeah thanks Sandy, but….. I need to go."

With that Jack took to the air, leaving a very worried and confused Sandman. Jack didn't put much thought into where he was going as long as it was away and to safety. Luckily, the Wind knew him very well, and dropped him in the safest place they knew.

"Jack?" Sera called from his left.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

In reply he stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around Sera's waist and buried his face into her chest. Sera looked down at him in shock; he hadn't thrown himself in her arms since the first night they met, he declared himself much too mature and self-sufficient for such things. What had shaken him so that he reacts in such a way? Pushing it aside, she wrapped her own arms around him as he shook. She rocked and shushed him, holding him tight until his trembling stopped.

"Now, tell me what happened."

"He didn't really do anything, but I just…." Jack said as he finished; his earlier reaction seemed a bit out of proportion and childish now that he looked back on it.

"It's alright dear, he tends to have that effect, especially in the first meeting," Sera assured, patting his knee.

"So you do know him."

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you ever tell me about him?"

"Because I though, falsely it seems, that I'd made it clear he was to stay away from you. Apparently I have to beat that idea into his thick skull to get the point across."

Jack hid a smile at the image. He actually pitied Pitch right about now. Sera was not a person to anger if you wanted your skin intact. His smile slid away.

"How do you know him?"

Sera hesitated, looking deep in thought.

"We are….of the same Age. The Golden Age."

"Will you tell me?" He asked hopefully. Sera had only ever vaguely mentioned this wonderful Age that she'd come from, and it made Jack all the more curious with its rarity.

"Another time. I promise," she added at Jack crestfallen expression.

"Right now we have a much more important conversation," she explained, moving to crouch in front of Jack and take his hands in her own. "I left you very vulnerable by not explaining the darker things in the world; I'd hoped to keep you away from them. I suppose that was an oversight on my part, I can't expect you to be at my side at all times, after all.

"Jack," she paused, looking Jack in the eyes. "Monsters are real. There are things in the dark, and they will hurt you, even kill you, given the chance.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear; I wish I didn't have to tell you. But you need to know it. However, you also need to know that you do have power over them," she added, and Jack's frightened expression lightened. "They can't get to you unless you let them. Unless you're too afraid to stop them.

"Now there's nothing wrong with being afraid; it's only wrong if you let it take over. And the choice not to give into fear, that's your power. That's what you have over all the monsters in the dark. And as long as you remember that, they can't hurt you," she promised, patting his hands with a soft smile.

-Line Break – Line Break—Line Break-

Jack was headed for Burgess when he saw the lights. He sighed in annoyance; he'd wanted to visit Jamie. (and maybe, on some very small, insignificant level, make sure the boy still believed in him. Maybe) Then worry replaced annoyance. They'd had a meeting only a few days ago, why would they be called back so soon? Dread pooling in his gut as he feared the worst, feared another attack by Pitch, he zipped to the Pole. He nearly crashed through the window in his haste when he got to the workshop, jumping to a battle stance he looked to the elder Guardians, who eyed him in amusement.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked as he looked around frantic for threats.

"Nothin', kiddo. Nothin's wrong," Bunny assured as he moved forward and put a steadying paw on the younger spirit's shoulder.

"But… the lights," Jack protested, still worried.

"Yeah, those aren' always fer emergencies."

"But they're called the _emergency_ lights!"

"Yeah, Ah know, we gotta get a better way ta call each other," Bunny agreed.

"So….there isn't an emergency?" Jack asked cautiously.

"No," Bunny affirmed and Jack let out a loud sigh of relief.

Then he socked the rabbit spirit in the arm.

"I was on the way to see Jamie!" he complained.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's not an emergency, but it's still important."

"What is it?" Jack pushed, still grumpy about being called for a non-world-threatening reason when he was about to check on his first believer.

"We know nothing about new member, so we all share stories and learn," North declared with his normal enthusiasm.

Jack just stared at him in disbelief and then turned his look to the others. Sandy looked just as excited – of course, he was always excited about these things. Tooth looked nervous as well as thrilled and Bunny looked as Jack was with the situation.

"You called me here for _bonding time_?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes," Bunny confirmed, sling an arm over Jack's shoulder. "And if Ah have ta suffer through this, so do you."

"Since when are we suffer buddies?"

"Since they decided ta drag me into this. Now suck it up."

Jack gave a snorted laugh and let Bunny steer him away to follow the others. Rather than the globe room, which Jack though was their primary place for these meetings, they filed into what looked like a lounge, settling into the plush seating. Then they lapsed into an awkward silence.

"So, who want's ta start?" Bunny prodded.

Yeah, Jack was _so not_ volunteering for that. Sandy, on the other hand, was more than willing. He waved his hand excitedly, a smile a mile wide on his face. Sandy was a great first choice; his story was as much a guessing game as it was a tale. The pictures depicted flashes of what Jack identified as the Golden Age – what do you know, Sandy and mom were the same age!—a war with figures Jack didn't recognize (Fearlings, Bunny supplied) and a crash landing on Earth when the Golden Age came crashing down.

North went next, just as eager. He told an animated story of how he joined the Guardians, with light tidbits from his past. And whoa. What really shock him the most –which when he thought about it really should have been the fact that Santa was an ex-bandit—was that North was the _youngest_ of the original Guardians, only a few centuries older than Jack himself. He would not have called that one.

Bunny and Tooth were much more reluctant to speak and sparse on the details. Jack had the distinct feeling that they both had very hard, very devastating times in their pasts. They gave small descriptions on how they joined the team and how they came into their jobs. But other than that, they didn't tell much of anything.

Then it was Jack's turn. Okay, he could do this. Calming breath, he could do this.

"Okay. I don't….. really remember much from my past. My human memories are still kind of fuzzy," Jack started shakily.

"Just start with the things you remember most, honey," Tooth prompted.

What he remembered the most. His sister! Yeah, with her beautiful brown hair and eyes and the bright smile. And how frightened she'd been on the ice. And getting her off and the ice cracking and falling and the cold and _he couldn't breathe he could move he was __**scared**_—

"Tell us why Sera's yer mum," Bunny demanded, snapping Jack back to reality.

"Bunny!" Tooth reprimanded.

"What, Ah'm curious."

Jack gave a laugh and took a deep breath. That he could do.

"She, she was the first spirit I ever met. And… she was always there for me. Whether I wanted her or not, and she was always watching over me. She just… she always felt like a mom.

"Not like _my_ mom," Jack said with a laugh. "My mom was… soft. Kind, even tempered, sweet. She was really pretty," Jack added, voice far away as he described her. He blinked and smiled sheepishly.

"Not to say that Sera isn't pretty: she is. You know, in the way that moms are pretty," Jack added, earning a chuckle from the room. "But Sera is…loud. And strong willed. And were very easily angered; and very scary when she's angry. So yeah, she and my mom are polar opposites," Jack concluded with a laugh before he trailed off again.

"What 'bout the rest of yer family," Bunny pressed, following Tooth's example and earning an appreciated look from said Fairy. "Yer dad—"

"I didn't see much of him. I don't think he was there that much."

That got a coo of pity from Tooth put Jack was too far in his memories to pay it mind. A warm smile spread over his face.

"I had a little sister. She was….. I don't remember names but she," he let out a laugh as he lost his train of thought, turning to his audience how gave him their full attention.

"I remember the day she was born – weird _that_ I remember that out of everything about her, huh? Anyway, I was five when she was born, and naturally I vowed to hate her guts from the moment she came into the world. After all, she was taking attention from me from _my_ parents. Five year old logic," he explained to the stares he received.

"But, the minute I held her…. I knew I could never let anything happen to her. She was such a tiny little thing, fit so easy in my arms and she needed me to protect her. I think, even then I knew that I would die for her…"

"Jack?" Bunny asked in concern as the boy trailed off once more, looking more sad and haunted than reminiscent.

Jack snapped out of his memories at gave the rabbit what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile. It came off more shaken than anything else.

"It was the early seventeen hundreds, hard times so I had to be real serious real quick," Jack recovered.

"You serious, nah," Bunny jibbed, trying to will the boy into explaining more because he knew there was more to it.

All he got was a tongue stuck out at him. And still it was too heavy hearted and haunted than anything Jack normally did. It was concerning. After that Jack refused to give any more information on his past, no matter how much any one of them prodded him. He would just change the subject and eventually fled, using the excuse 'I still have to see Jamie' as he jumped out the window. Bunny watched him go in concern; something wasn't right.

The four mulled around in the lounge, occasionally attempting conversation. It was becoming a fairly normal activity for them since Jack joined, Bunny noticed. After a good ten minutes of this aimlessness, filled with worry and varying levels of concern and anxiety, Bunny decided it was enough. He marched up to Tooth, gaining her attention.

"Ya still got the kid's teeth?" He asked.

"Yes," she answered, giving him a look at the odd question.

"Can Ah see it?"

"I suppose."

She hesitantly handed him the small golden tube. He turned it over in his hands, studying it. Then he looked back up to meet her questioning gaze. She wasn't going to like this.

"Ya can show someone else memories in a box, yeah."

"Aster, no."

"But ya can, right?"

"I won't! That is an extreme invasion of privacy."

"We need to know—"

"This is his _mind_, you're talking about invading, Aster! That's, I can't even describe how awful that is!"

"Ya saw his face Toothy! Somethin' happened in his human life, and he won't tell us."

"So your solution is to go trampling around in his brain?! He will never forgive us!"

"Kid can't hold a grudge ta save his life," Bunny snorted.

"That's not the point!"

"Tooth," North interjected, placing a large hand on her tense shoulder.

"You know that boy was very bothered by his memories. And he does not trust us enough to tell."

"Any trust he does have in us will be destroyed by this," Tooth protested.

"We cannot help of we don't know problem. Jack is hurting and he will not tell us. You know what bottling up hurt can do, da?"

Tooth deflated with a heavy sigh. "Yes," she whispered.

She took the box back from Bunny, looking at it sadly. She studied the face, Jack's face. What happened in his life that hurt him so? She had seen the pain and though human life was far from perfect, it was far from terrible enough to cause such deep pain. Something truly tragic had to have happened.

"Everyone needs to touch the case," she whispered, head bowed.

The three remaining Guardians looked to one another in surprise. Then they slowly moved forward to do as she said, put out by her defeated posture.

"We're doing the right thing, Toothy," Aster promised as he placed a finger on the tube.

"I don't know if we are."

"We're all worried about him."

"That's why I'm agreeing."

She looked up, making sure everyone was in contact with the box. She met Sandy's reassuring look, turned to North's sympathetic gaze and to Bunny's confident stare and sighed. No going back now.

"It will be confusing; like watching a movie but experiencing everything Jack did as well. His memories will conflict with yours for some time after, and it will be disorienting. Does everyone understand?" She explained, offering one final way out.

When she got understanding nods, she sighed once more, accepting. Here we go, she thought, and drew here finger along the diamond pattern on the surface. And their world dissolved to the past.

**Sorry if my Pitch wasn't very in character; my connection to shadowy psycho is a bit lacking. Anyway, we'll be getting into the memories now, so do you guys still want bits as Jack's life as a spirit in the beginning, or will that be too confusing? Let me know.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry this took so long. But college started up and, as you can see, this chapter is a monster. I hope it's worth the wait. Enjoy. And see if you can spot the allusions to the movie I've got in here ; )**

The wind howled, rattling the window and blowing so strong that at times it felt as if the very cottage would be blown away. The breeze sent icy chills through the room, shrieking all the while. It was the first big storm of the winter, dumping ice and snow across the land by the bucket load. It wasn't something the small settlement under the storm's shadow wasn't used to, but it still wasn't overly pleasant either. And it certainly wasn't the best condition to bring a child into the world. Yet here she was.

Abigail Overland had wanted to be a mother almost all her life. Ever since she was a child herself, the eldest of twelve children, seeing her many brothers and sisters born, and holding them as she looked at the perfect, tiny faces she'd wanted a child of her own. To hold a child, look down at that perfect face, and know it was hers. And when she met her husband, she wanted a child that was _theirs, _the perfect mix of the two of them. A living embodiment of the love she shared with the man who was the light of her life. It was her dream, and so every detail was down to a science. She took care of herself and her precious bundle through the months that she watched her belly grow. Stayed off her feet, ate well, and relaxed. Relaxed to the point she thought it would kill her if she relaxed even a second more. But she'd made it through, and now she was at the most crucial point. And it wasn't quite what she imagined.

Giving birth was the greatest gift in the world. It was a thing of beauty, bringing forth new life. It was also a well- known fact that bringing a baby into the world was no easy task. However, that tidbit of knowledge was just slightly less well known. In fact, no one had bothered to mention it to the expecting mother, at all. So Abigail wasn't in the best of moods as she lay there on her back, trembling in the frozen air as she tried to push her first child out of her. This was the shining moment of her life: she knew that. But it also hurt, _everywhere_ and she had been at this for hours, and she was exhausted and if that bitch of a midwife told her to breathe and push one more time she was going to rip the old woman's lungs from her chest!

Said old woman moved from her kneeled position between Abigail's knees to dab her damp forehead.

"Deep breaths, Mrs. Overland," she reminded.

Any thought of lung removal for the comment flew from the younger woman's mind as a rolling wave of pain bloomed from her lower belly. She tangled the sheets below her through her fingers in an attempt to quell the pain as she cried out, spine and legs tensed against the agony. And the constant instruction was suddenly very appreciated, as Abigail could not for the life of her remember how to breathe properly.

"Will. Will," she repeated in a gasp, glancing around the room to confirm that her husband was not in the room.

"Where's Will?"

"Your husband step out at your request," the elder informed, moving to retrieve a fresh bowl of water. "Or, more accurately, you told him to 'get out, you miserable bastard'. Then you threatened to rip his cock from his body and stuff it down his throat for putting you in this state. He came very near to fainting after that; I thought it best for him to leave. Such stress is very dangerous during this time. And to be honest, I'm in no mood to step over your husband's unconscious body while I work," she added with a chuckle.

The midwife paused at the sound of rapid breathing, glanced over her shoulder and rushed back when the younger woman thrashed on the bed in an utter panic. She placed a hand on her warm forehead for comfort while the other rested on the heaving chest. The woman's dilated eyes darted about the room in a panic, her heart beating like a bird's beneath the elder's hand. Ignoring the warnings to calm down and sit still, Abigail moved to push herself up.

She was hurting, it hurt so much and she could feel the sheets below her slick with blood and she was frightened. She needed her husband, her other half, and she needed him now, even if she had to drag him in by his hair. Her attempt to do so resulted in her being shoved back to the bed by the deceptively strong old woman.

"Mrs. Overland, you have to lie back."

"Will. I need Will. I can't do this, I need my Will!"

Another pained yell followed her desperate declaration and had her collapsing onto the mattress. The midwife kept her hold on Abigail's shoulders strong, forcing her to stay put on the bed, giving the younger woman a drilling stare until their gazes met.

"Your child is ready to join us, Mrs. Overland. There's no time," she pressed over the woman's panicked pleas.

"I need Will, I need Will here I need my husband!"

Hysteria was something the midwife was well used to in first time mothers; giving birth wasn't all the roses that it was often made out to be, and the shock made the experience terrifying. Normally she would be gentle, understanding; allow the husbands to assist, nurture the women through the pain and fear and ease the children into life. But unfortunately, there was no room for that now; Abigail's labor had been a long, difficult birthing and the young mother was losing blood, too much, too fast. If the child wasn't born soon, both it and its mother would die. She couldn't afford to waste time to usher the expecting father inside and then work to keep both him and his wife calm.

"Mrs. Overland. Abigail!" she shouted, giving the woman a good shake. It did the trick and fogged, panicked brown eyes focused on her.

"Your child is in danger. It must be born, now. You are about to become a mother!" she snapped when Abigail only continued the babble. "Your child is depending on you, and if you cannot be strong you are not fit to be a mother!"

Harsh? Yes, but effective. Abigail stared for a moment, blinked. Then she nodded, resolved despite her trembling bottom lip.

"There's a girl," the midwife encouraged, giving quaking shoulders a pat before kneeling down to deliver the young woman's baby.

"Alright Abigail; push."

William paced outside, wearing a ditch in the growing snow in front of his door. The shock of the cold had done him good at first, cleared his head, but now he was numb to it – probably not a good sign, now that he thought of it—and his mind raced. His first child was being born inside, and he wasn't allowed to be there to witness it.

He hadn't been concerned when Abby demanded he leave; she was in pain and they'd both agreed early on that he couldn't let anything she said hurt him. But then the midwife told him to do the same, and that frightened him. Wasn't he supposed to be in the room? Every father he'd spoken to confirmed as much. Why wasn't he inside? What was happening? He had to be in there!

He snapped back from near insanity when the door swung open. The midwife stood in the door way, hands folded across her belly, watching him pace with a look that made him feel like an idiot. She gave him a stern look when he surged forward, questions flying. He quickly quieted under the look, and tried not to feel ridiculous.

"She did well, but she's exhausted. I'm only giving you a few minutes," she warned, all but completely ignored as the man rushed inside.

She sighed in annoyance and followed the man inside. New fathers, she thought with a scoff, just as bad as the mothers. She slapped a restraining hand to his arm when he reached the room with his wife.

"Exhausted," she remained, making sure he understood

"Only a few minutes, I understand," he affirmed, hesitating at the door. "The baby?"

The woman only rolled her eyes and pushed him forward. First she couldn't keep him out, now she practically had to shove him inside. Honestly, she was getting too old to deal with new parents. The man came to a stuttering halt that even her steely push couldn't move. His mouth gapped as he gazed at the bed, where his wife sat cradling a small bundle. The midwife gave him a good pat on the back, giving an amused smirk at the young man's utterly awestruck expression.

"Congratulations, Mr. Overland. You have a healthy baby boy."

"A boy…."

The old woman couldn't help the warm smile that replaced the smirk on her wrinkled face as William stumbled forward, kneeling at his wife's side, his face a glow. The sight never failed to warm her, no matter how annoyed she was at all the frantic blubbering. It was sweetly beautiful to see a newly forged family, together for the first time.

"I want her sleeping before I make it home," she warned, still smiling even as neither parent so much as glanced at her, awed by the sleeping face of their child.

"Best of luck to you both: the boy's going to be a handful, I can tell already."

"Thank you," Abigail whispered tiredly.

The woman smiled with a nod and toddled off into the biting storm, leaving the two with their new son. Truly, it never got old.

"Abby," he whispered, placing a hand on his son's small head and wrapping the other arm around his wife's shoulders.

His hand looked so large on the tiny head, resting on the full head of brown hair, clearly a trait from Abby. For a moment, he was terrified. The baby was so fragile. What if he broke him, held him wrong and broke him. Such a precious, wonderful life in his hands. And it was all theirs, he reminded himself with a smile, banishing the frightened thoughts.

"Look at what we made," she whispered back, voicing his thoughts.

She was close tears as she shuffled her bundle to better see that tiny, beautiful face. He was worth it, all the pain and waiting. He was worth it all, and more.

"Perfect. He's perfect," William declared, placing a kiss first on the sleeping infant and then to his wife's lips.

After forty two weeks, ten hours and thirty two minutes of waiting, on the twenty first of December, 1698, Jackson Nathaniel Overland finally came into the world.

-Line Break – Line Break—Line Break –

The old midwife was nothing if not perceptive; Jackson certainly was a handful. From the moment he could walk – or rather, when he skipped walking and went straight into running – the little boy was a bit of a hellion. He was still a perfect in the eyes of his parents, and they loved him more than anything. But he was an energetic lovable little thing that drove his parents to exhaustion with the energy that he apparently had in spades. One of his favorite pass times was running full speed through the tiny village screaming at the top of his lungs. Much like he was now. But, to be fair, this time around was in a merry chase of his two new friends.

Abigail watched with a smile as the three five year olds raced about, showing no sign as slowing. Ah, the vigor of youth.

Her son's new found playmates were just the right age for him: twins, both just a few months older than Jack. She snorted when Jack leaped at the two and the dragged them to the ground. She shook her head as the three ended up rolling in the mud, still laughing like mad men and glanced to the only road leading to their town. She sighed, running a hand through her shortened hair. Will had been away for three months now and winter was on its way. It was beginning to concern her.

The town had come across hard times in recent years, the limited trade coming to a near halt, leaving their small economy floundering. Hoping to expand the village's resources and to provide more for their growing son, Will brought his production of wool from their flock into the business of trade. It was a sensible decision, one she agreed with fully. But it didn't make his long absences any easier, on her or on Jack. She sighed again and turned her gaze back to her son. She took a pre-reprimanding breath to order the boy to stop rolling in the mud like a pig when the clop of hooves brought her attention back to the road. There he was, leading his wagon of goods down the road, sun gleaming on his dark hair, amber-brown eyes fixed on their home. He was back.

"Will!" she greeted, rushing to meet him.

The man's eyes lit up at her call. He leapt off and pulled his wife into his arms, lifting her into the air and giving her a passionate kiss. He spun her around, keeping his face buried into her hair, taking in her scent with a smile. When William placed her back on her feet he gave her another sweet kiss. They pulled apart at a shrilled cry.

"_Da_! Da, Da, _DaDaDaDaDa_ _Da_!"

The two turned and smiled at the small mud creature rushing them, chanting 'Da!' all the way. The small boy with just a whiff of chocolate hair visible beneath all the mud bounced happily as he reached them eyes shining and with a happy smile. William laughed and crouched down to scoop the tiny body up, twirling around to hear that happy laugh again as Jack clung to his neck.

"Oh look at you!" Doing just that, William held the boy back looking him over. "Yep, you're even filthier than when I left."

"Yes, well, he decided to roll about in the mud," Abigail informed, coming next to the two with a disapproving look.

"Well of course he did."

"I was playing!"

"Were you now?"

"With Charlie and Chris," he informed, waving to his friends. The two waved back and William gaped.

"My, my. They got big," William muttered, staring at the two boys.

He swore last time he saw the two they were just babes trying to learn to crawl. Of course, he thought the same about the mud -covered boy in his arms who, though still so small, just barely _fit_ in his arms.

"They did. So did this one," Abigail agreed.

"Yes he did. And that reminds me; it seems my boy turned five not too long ago." He twirled around again, making Jack squeal with just as much delight. "And we didn't give him much of a party, so…I brought you something."

Jack gave a happy squeak and jumped out of his father's arms. He bounced a circle around the man, clapping and pushing for answers. 'What is it?' 'Where is it?' 'Can I have it now?' He asked over and over as he jumped around.

"Look in the wagon. You'll know it," he promised, letting Jack bolt past him.

William chuckled as he watched the boy go, then turned to meet the worried gazed of his wife. He sighed, understanding the concern. Money was hard to come by, and nothing they made could be spent on gifts but for the most important holidays. And there hadn't been enough for Jack's birthday that year.

"It didn't cost me anything," he assured.

Abigail had only a moment to feel relieved when Jack gave another squeal and bounded back over.

"A puppy! Mommy, Da got me a puppy!"

"I see that," she assured, looking from the gleeful five year old to William with a tight smile, just a step from angry.

William gave a nervous smile in return, then crouched down to meet Jack's eyes. He could deal with his the wrath of his wife later, gladly so, just to see the utter joy in those big brown eyes as his boy cradle the little ball of matted fur that wiggled happily in his arms.

"It was amazing," he said in a conspiring whisper, "There he was, on the road to New York, facing off valiantly against a hoard of tigers."

Jack gasped dramatically, clutching the little puppy tightly to his chest. He looked down at the pup in wonder then back to his father, tiny brows furrowed.

"What are tigers, Da?"

"Really big cats," he informed dramatically, barely holding back a laugh when the boy's eyes all but bulged out of his head. "And when they attacked my wagon he jumped to my defense. And he chased them off back to the dark from whence they came."

"Brave puppy," Jack whispered in awe, heart swelling when the little puppy gave his cheek a lick. "Charlie, Chris, I gotta a brave puppy!" He called darting back to his friends.

William chuckled and rose back to his feet, happily watching the child for a time. The smile slipped off his face in a wince when he met Abigail's gaze.

"Tigers?" she questioned, eyebrow raised and arms crossed, amused yet still disapproving.

"I heard a few oversea trades' men mention them. Thought it would add some spice. It was half dead on the side of the road," he admitted when she only continued to stare. "I couldn't just leave it there. All it needed was a bit of food and warmth, and it was good as new."

Abigail's cold stare melted and she grasped his hand. Really, her husband; always letting his heart think before his mind.

"Will, you have…. The biggest heart of anyone I know, and I love you for that. I do. But we can't afford a dog," she declared with some hesitation.

"He's a Border Collie. That breed produces wonderful sheep dogs. He'll pull his weight."

"And until then all we have is a defenseless animal that will need supplies we can't spare."

"We can make it work."

"How?"

"I can, I'll work longer into the season to bring more food home."

"You're not spending that much time away," she declared firmly, anger slowly rising at the thought.

"If I can barter for a passel of pigs, maybe some fowls, along with our sheep our income will—"

"You're hardly here as it is, William!" She snapped, cutting him off. "You are gone for months at a time and you are not leaving for longer for a dog!"

"You can see how much he already loves it!"

"Which is why you shouldn't have brought it for him in the first place! Now he'll just be heartbroken when we—"

"We can't just leave him."

The tiny voice to the side brought the argument to a halt. Jack stood holding his puppy against his chest, lip trembling. He didn't like his parents yelling. He was proudly showing off his brave little puppy when he heard them and wandered back over.

Mommy was worried and upset and then Da was grumpy and now they were both angry. He hated when his parents were mad, especially when they were mad at each other. Their anger dug nails into his forehead and they were going to get rid of his dog and he did not like it, any of it! He bit his bottom lip to stop its shaking and looked to his mother, big eyes gleaming and pitiful. The anger melted to soft sorrow and pity and it made him feel just a little better.

"Mommy, the tigers could still be out there." That had Mommy throwing a mean look at Da and there was more anger digging into his head. Biting back a whimper, he pushed on. "And he'll be all alone and cats _hate_ doggies Mommy! We have to keep him safe!"

"Honey…"

"I'll take care of him," Jack insisted, "He'll be my puppy. I'll be good with him and love him, just please don't make me get rid of Tiger Hunter!"

"Tiger Hunter?" Abigail asked, amused, saddened and annoyed.

"That's what I wanna call him," Jack told her quietly, looking up at her with the saddest of eyes.

"Tiger Hunter the sheep dog. I like it," William declared, earning a stern look from Abigail.

The look melted away when Jack sniffled, close to full blown sobs. Please, please, _please_, Mommy. I love him already, he thought sorrowfully. Abigail slumped with a sigh, running a hand through Jack's thick brown hair and looking down at the small white and black pup in his arms. It was difficult not to love the little puff of fur, she had to admit; it was a cute little thing.

"Well," she sighed, "you'd better go get Tiger Hunter cleaned up."

"Really Mommy?" He asked hopefully, instantly perking up.

"Yeah, go take him out to the well. And clean yourself up too, young man," she added firmly.

"Yes Mommy. Thank you!"

Smiling as Jack bounded off, Abigail turned back to her husband. She slumped to her William's side with a sigh, flicker of anger well extinguished by Jack's happy squeals about his new pet as he ran.

"I hate it when you make me the bad guy," she complained, earning a chuckle.

"Well one of us has to be and it can't be me. I'm the favorite parent."

Abigail snorted and gave him a playful nudge. Then she drew him back to the conversation with a serious look.

"We'll figure out a way to make it work. One that doesn't involve you being away for so long."

"Abby, I don't like leaving either. But it's the best we can do."

"It was before, but….. things have changed. We need to talk," she explained. He gave her a confused look but didn't resist as she pulled him inside.

Jack splashed the cold water from the well onto his face, glancing down happily at the small black puppy circling his legs. Once he washed the mud off from his clothes and hair, he sat on his knees and let the puppy jump into his lap, gleefully cuddling the little thing, laughing at the little tongue that tickled his cheeks. Its little white face nuzzling Jack's own and Jack sent it a smile. This had to be the best day of his life. He got a puppy, made new friends, Da was back and he and Mommy weren't angry anymore. Still worried, but not angry and worry didn't drive nails into his head, so he was fine with it. Things couldn't get much better.

A cool breeze ruffled his hair, making him look up in excitement. A wide smile covered his face when the air around him chilled. The day _could_ get even better! He watched in anticipation as the first flake of snow formed and floated down toward him, only snapping out of his fascination when his mother called for him.

"Snow! Mommy, snow!" He told her excitedly, calling for Tiger Hunter to follow him as he ran to the house. "Snow, Mommy!"

"I see it. Now let's get you inside before you catch a cold," she urged, opening the door enough for the tiny pup to dart inside and pulling Jack in gently by the arm.

Jack strained his neck, keeping his head back to see outside as long as possible. He watched the tiny flake float closer and closer and threw his other hand out to catch it on his finger. He smiled when the little flake melted on the pad of his finger, watching happily as more and more snowflakes decorated the sky.

Jack never understood why winter scared people so much. Even his parents were scared, no matter how much they tried to hide it for his sake. They always thought he would be scared too, but really their feelings confused the boy to no end. Winter was the best time of year. It brought snow –pretty pretty sparkling snow – and Da didn't have to leave. During the fall he was working with the sheep and during the spring and parts of summer he had to leave. But winter he was home. It was months of huddling in their home, the three of them, sitting by the fire while they ate, read, cuddled. What could be scary about that? Jack sighed happily as they sat at their table by the fire, eating hot stew and trying to sneak bits of meat to Tiger Hunter while Mommy and Da talked while they ate their own food. Hot stew, nice fire, time with his parents; winter was great!

"Jack, stop playing with the dog and eat," Abigail ordered and Jack quickly did so.

Tiger Hunter was getting big. Already the teeny tiny puppy gained three pounds; William and Abigail now had to use their arms to hold the squirming puppy rather than fitting him in the palm of one hand. And it was Jack's intense commitment to his job as a pet owner that had the puppy so healthy. Jack was dedicated and attentive; more so than his parents thought possible for a five year old for so long. And still Jack was just as enraptured with his puppy two months into having it as he was the first day he held it.

His parents were impressed, he could tell. But more than anything they were nervous, had been since they got Tiger Hunter. And it was starting to make Jack nervous.

"Jack, sweety." Jack looked up, nervous at his mother's tone, "your father and I need to talk to you."

"I didn't do it!" He denied immediately.

"No, Jack honey—"

"The sheep were already like that."

His father all but chocked on the spoonful of stew he had in his mouth. He head snapped around, giving the boy a sharp look.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Jack drawled, avoid William's gaze. "I didn't try to teach them to swim. And get them all muddy," he explained-denied, cracking under the stern gaze.

William pinched the bridge of his nose, half amused and half exasperated. He sighed and looked back up.

"And why would you do that? If you did," he added to cut off more denial.

"You told me learning to swim was important. So I though it be a good idea to teach them."

"In the middle of winter?" William asked incredulously.

Jack nodded, missing the tone and keeping his head bowed. Abigail gave a snort and William gave a tired sigh.

"That's all you," she told him, earning a playful glare

"Why do don't you leave swim lessons to me, alright?" He asked through his smile, unable to stay mad.

Jack looked up and gave his father a smile when William grasped his tiny hand.

"But that's not what we wanted to talk about." William gave Jack a look that told him they _would_ be talking about it later.

"Oh. Oops," Jack muttered, smiling sheepishly.

"Jack, come over here honey," Abigail called with a laugh.

Jack jumped down from his chair and made his way over to his mother's sat, glowing as she smiled. William mussed the boy's hair as he went by, to which Jack gave an annoyed whine as he shoved the hand away. But he was still smiling happily when he stood in front of his mother, who took both of his small hands in her own. She was nervous, he noticed, but a happy nervous. He looked up at her in confusion and she beamed back.

"Jack, your father and I, are going have another baby."

Jack's jaw dropped. First a puppy and now a baby? This was the best winter ever! He bounced happily with his hands still in Abigail's, smiling so much his face hurt.

"Where is it? Can I see it now? Is it a brother or a sister?" He asked excitedly.

"We don't know yet, honey."

Jack excited look faded back to confusion. How could they not know if it was going to be a brother or a sister? If they were going to get the baby, shouldn't they know before the got it, to make sure it was the right kind? Babies were hard to find, after all, Jack couldn't remember seeing one in over a year, since their neighbor's baby died. His parents would really want to be sure they got the perfect baby.

Very slowly, Abigail took one of Jack's little hands and gently placed it on her stomach. Jack looked up at her, confused again, and then down at his hand. Under it, Mommy's belly was bulging slightly. Her belly wasn't usually like that, was it?

"What is it?"

"That's the baby."

Jack's eyes zoomed back down to the bulge. What?

"Nuh-uh," he denied, shaking his head to emphasize the point. "It's bump. It's a bump on your tummy."

"Yes and the bump's going to be your little brother or sister," she explained with a laugh.

"But how'd it get in there?" He asked, poking at her stomach. "Did you eat it?" He squeaked, looking back to his mother in horror.

"No, honey. I didn't eat it," she assured, laughing. Her son's mind worked in such a special way, it was very sweet. And the way his face twisted in confusion was completely adorable.

"Then how'd the baby get in there?"

"Oh, well," she looked almost stricken by the idea of explaining and it made Jack even more confused, "we'll, we'll talk about that when you're a little older."

Jack groaned and let his head flop forward, whining. That was always the answer to his questions. He felt his mother's chuckle from where his head rested on her stomach and giggled at the way it tickled his ear before regaining his frown with resolve. That was an annoying answer, and he was not happy with it.

"You say that about everything," he whined.

"Because you, dear, have questions that are much too big for you."

Jack huffed, closing his eyes as he lay against the small bump. Huh, there _was_ something in there, he realized, opening his eyes to glance at it before closing them again to concentrate on whatever it was that was in there. He could feel the warmth of the small ball nestled in Mommy's tummy against the side of his head, nice and sweet and very much living.

Who would have thought? There was a baby in there.

"Mommy, when's it going to be a baby?" He asked, keeping a hand on the bump-baby. He liked feeling the bump-baby vibrate when Mommy talked. And liked how much the bump-baby liked when Mommy talked.

"We'll have your brother or sister with us in a few months now."

Jack groaned in despair, forgetting feeling Mommy vibrated talking through the bump-baby and dropping down onto his butt. His parents tried to swallow back their laughs, and in William's case failed awfully.

"That's forever," he whined, frowning when his parents just laughed at his plight. Didn't they understand how long that was?

"Oh I know," William agreed, kneeling down by Jack and drawing the five year old into his lap. Jack momentarily forgot his dejection and twisted around to face his Da so their matching sets of amber-brown eyes met. "Seems like just yesterday we had to wait so long to get you," he continued. "But this gives us time to get ready. You know how much we need to get ready for?" He hummed wisely when Jack shook his head.

"You're going to be a big brother, Jack. Do you know what that means?" Again, Jack shook his head. "Well, it's a big job. You've got to take care of the little one your Mom's bringing us. And you've got to look after your Mom, too," he added. "I have to leave a lot, you know," Jack nodded sadly, uneasy settling in his chest, "and with Tiger Hunter here and this new baby coming too, we'll need more food for them. And I might need to be away more for that."

"But Da," Jack whined. Da had to leave _more_ now?

"I know. Your mom doesn't like it either." Mommy was angry again. And the nails in his head hurt even more because the bump-baby didn't like Mommy angry any more than Jack did and now the bump-baby was upset. First it made Da go away more and now its feelings and Mommy's were making his head hurt. The bump-baby didn't seem so fun anymore.

"But it's important," William continued, kissing Jack's forehead, chasing some of the pain away. "And I need you to look after them when I'm not here. Can you do that?"

Jack gaped up at his father, blinking owlishly. Da was asking him to take care of Mommy and the bump-baby. To be the man of the house. And he had to be brave for that. Brave boys didn't cry, he told himself, swallowing the lump in his throat and firming his lips.

"I can do it, Da," he promised, straightening his shoulders and puffing his tiny chest out.

William smiled, proud and amused and gathered Jack in his arms. He rested his face in Jack's hair, looking up to his wife who held the same smile.

"I know you can. My boy."

"Oh, Mommy should lie down. You should lie down, Mommy," he declared, pulling at Abigail's hand to try to pull her up out of her seat. "I'll take care of dinner Mommy, you just lie down."

Abigail laughed merrily as her determined son managed to pull her out of the chair and toward her and William's small room. Once Jack got something in his head, he put all of his effort into achieving his goal, so fighting him was next to impossible. William watched amused for a minute before pulling Jack to a stop.

"How about you let me handle taking care of her while I'm here?" William suggested, earning a shy smile from Jack. "Right now, it's time for you to go to bed," he declared scooping Jack up and tossing the giggling boy over his shoulder. Jack shrieked and laughed, waving goodnight to his mother. Abigail smiled and waved back, gathering the dishes on the table.

The journey to Jack's room from the threshold of his parents' was short. Their home was small; Jack's room was just across from William and Abigail's. William dropped Jack on the bed gently and the boy laughed happily as he bounced on his small bed. Jack snuggled under the covers as William sat on the bed next to him. William smiled down at his son and ran a hand through Jack's chocolate locks.

"I love you," he told Jack firmly, hand stilling over Jack's hair. It still baffled him, how small his son's head was under his hand. "More than anything, and I want you to know that nothing will ever change that."

"I love you too, Da. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jack."

He leaned in a placed a kiss on Jack's head and sat there for another minute, gently petting Jack's hair as he fell asleep. Then he helped Tiger Hunter onto the bed where the puppy nestled into the covers at Jack's feet, wagging his little tail to express his joy. He smiled at the pair as he left room, blowing the candle out as he went.

Jack's sleep wasn't restful. When he jolted awake he was weeping; even as the nightmare faded from his mind he couldn't stop the tears. He wiped at his damp cheeks as he looked around the room. He could hear a soft vibrating sound at his feet and he guessed that was what woke him up. Looking down at the foot of his bed he saw the sound was coming from the tiny ball of fur standing defensively over his legs. Tiger Hunter; Tiger Hunter was growling. Sitting up against his pillow, he peeked around the room to see what had Tiger Hunter so worked up. There was only a limited amount of moonlight dimly lighting the room and he couldn't see much. But as his eyes adjusted to the dark, Jack could make out the silhouette of a slim figure looming over him.

"Da?" He asked hesitantly.

When the figure didn't answer, Jack curled up into a frightened ball. The figure was too tall and thin to be his father and Tiger Hunter wouldn't have been growling if it was his Da. The puppy growled as loud and threatening as his small body would allow when the figure leaned in closer.

"Can you see me, little one?" The figure asked.

Jack trembled and curled up tighter. The shadow laughed and Jack could see the glint of sharp teeth in the moonlight. Jack whimpered and trembled and tried not to cry. Monster, there was a monster in his room. A monster under his bed, he realized, his blood going cold as his eyes followed the shadow's elongated form to its source.

"Well, isn't that interesting. Do you know who I am?"

Jack could feel breath on his cheek but when he looked up all he could see was a shadowy outline. And a mouth of sharp teeth that smiled down at him. He knew this shadowy thing. Stories had spread through the village in recent years. Dark stories brought over by the newest settlers. Stories of creatures that lurked in the dark and most prominently of the monster that dwelled under the beds of children and haunted their dreams. Jack let the tears stream down his face as his gaze once again went to the line of shadow streaming from beneath his bed.

"Boogeyman," he whispered in a teary voice, cringing when the shadow laughed.

"Oh I love this New World. Stories of me spread so quickly here."

The smile was getting bigger and sharper as it got closer. It was all Jack could see and the dark only seemed to spread the closer the figure came. Jack cowered against the wall at the head of his bed, trying to disappear.

"Then you know you need to be asleep now, Jack. Go back to sleep," he sang in a whispery voice and Jack could make out the shadowed hand reaching for him.

The shadow gave a yelp before his finger could brush Jack's forehead when, with another tiny growl, Tiger Hunter leapt forward and latched onto the extended arm. Jack felt a brief moment of relief and pride but it died as quickly as it came. Despite his valiant effort the puppy was flung off with a good shake. And with a snarled 'blasted dog!' the shadow man made Tiger Hunter go quiet, the puppy giving a small yelp as he did so. It was enough to snap Jack out of his terror.

"Mommy!" He shouted using as much air as his tiny lungs could hold. He closed his eyes and curled up as tightly as possible, shouting all the while. "Mommy, Mommy! _Mommy_!"

At the sound of approaching feet outside his door, Jack risked peeking around the room. The shadow outline was gone. He had barely a second to register his relief when his door burst open and lighted flooded the room. His mother rushed forward and gathered the crying boy in her arms while his father stood at in the doorway and scanned the room. Jack huddled into his mother's chest, comforted by her scent, even while icy chills of fear pierced his chest as she held him.

"Baby, what happened?" She asked when he quieted his sobbing.

"Mommy, there was a monster! The Boogeyman's under my bed!" He cried sobbing and fear returning full force.

Every ounce of tension abruptly left her body and she gave a tired sigh. Jack looked up in confusion when sparks of annoyance jolted through him, frowning when Mommy visualized the feelings with a look to Da. This wasn't something to be _annoyed_ at; it was very real danger! Didn't they understand that?

"I knew those stories would do this," she muttered, still holding Jack tightly against her. "Throwing all those stories around to terrify children, what were they thinking?"

"It was real, Mommy!"

"Jack, baby—"

"I saw him, Mommy! He hurt Tiger Hunter. He was _real_!"

"Jack, Tiger Hunter's right here. He's just sleeping."

"He was real, Mommy! He was real."

"It's alright, baby. It's alright," she shushed, rocking the child when Jack broke down, still trying to argue his case even though his words were beyond coherence.

She sat there for a time with Jack tucked under her chin, rocking him and pecking sweet kisses on his cheeks and forehead between her gentle shushes. The gentle touches and her calming presence were plenty to calm the boy down. Even if he was still upset that they refused to believe him.

"Are you ready to go back to bed?" She asked gently when she felt Jack slump in her arms and his breathing level out, taking them as signs that the boy was on the edge of going back to sleep. Bad move.

"NO! Mommy, he'll come back!"

Abigail sighed as Jack clung to her once more with the same frantic strength he'd held onto almost an hour before. She really thought they were finished with that. But she still hugged him just as tightly and tried to calm him down, forcing back her annoyance.

"Baby, nothing is going to get you. Nothing was there."

"He was real!"

"Abby, why don't you go lie back down? I'll get him to sleep," William promised, putting a stop to the conversation before it could fall into a familiar spiral.

Abigail nodded and climbed to her feet, letting William take her place. The two sat side by side in silence as she left the room, and long after she was out of sight. Jack sat curled in on himself, Tiger Hunter snuggled next to him, having settle next to his small master after jolting awake. William just sat calmly next to him, waiting for Jack to make the first move.

"He was _real_, Da," Jack insisted once more, refusing to look up from his knees.

"Alright," William conceded, placing a hand between Jack's small shoulder blades. "What are we going to do about him?"

Going along with Jack seemed the best route after watching Abigail spend nearly an hour trying to convince the boy out of his belief. Agree and comfort was the most successful option, he decided. Jack finally looked up from his knees, watery eyes surprised. Then he shrugged and rested his chin back on his knees. His Da still didn't believe him, but he was too tired and upset to keep fighting.

"I dunno. I'm scared."

William hummed in response and rubbed Jack's back for comfort. The boy all but vibrated under his hand and he still wouldn't roll out of his balled position.

"You said that he hurt Tiger Hunter. Why'd he do that?" He asked, course of action set in mind.

"He bit him," Jack told him quietly.

"And do you know why he did that?"

"Because he's brave puppy."

"Exactly, and he's your protector. That's the job of a good dog. That means as long as he's here, nothing will happen to you." He waited a beat as Jack eyes darted to the puppy and back the gaze of his father. "Whenever you're scared, just tell yourself that. 'Nothing will happen with Tiger Hunter here'." Again, he waited for the suggestion to really take root, and to his relief Jack finally stopped his shaking. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Jack gave a hesitant nod and once again crawled under the covers. This time, Tiger Hunter bounded into Jack's arms and burrowed into his chest. The little boy gave a content sigh at the feel of the tiny body against his chest and nodded to his father with much more confidence. William smiled in return, tucking Jack in more snuggly before leaving the room and turning out the light.

For a moment fear washed over him again when the light went out, but then he felt Tiger Hunter shift in his arms. Warmth replaced the fear in the center of his chest and he drifted to sleep, feeling content and safe. No more nightmares came.

Da had to leave again. Winter was over and Da was leaving again. He'd waited as long as he could, after the snow had melted and every other trade's men were long gone to make sure Mommy and the bump-baby were alright. But still he had to leave, and Jack hated that.

He stood glaring at the loaded wagon as Da cupped Mommy's face and kissed her –ew—and then knelt down and kissed the bump-baby –urgh—and finally came to him. He tried not to cry, he really did, but tears still forced their way to the surface.

"Hey there," William said softly, kneeling to Jack's level and holding his shoulders.

"I don't want you to go, Da." There was snot and tears everywhere; not a very big boy thing to do, he had to admit, but he just. Could. Not. Make them stop.

"I know. But I need to, and I need to take care of your Mom."

"I will, Da," he promised, trying to be brave even through his tears and squeaked voice.

"I know you will. I'll be back before you know it," he promised, scooping Jack into his arms and holding him tight. "And then we'll celebrate having your brother or sister with us."

William hugged him and gave Jack a kiss on the forehead before walking to his wagon. Jack made his way back to his mother and held her hand, glaring at the bump-baby. Then he turned back to where his Da—_his_ Da, he thought viciously— was setting out and waved sadly. William waved back and disappeared down the road.

Spring had passed and summer was well on the way when Jack was once again jolted awake, breaking a three month streak of perfectly restful sleep. He hadn't had anymore nightmares or visits from the Boogeyman after he started to keep Tiger Hunter in the room with him. The puppy was getting big, already almost as big as Jack was and he was as protective and loyal as ever; Jack knew the puppy would keep him safe. Jack's personal protective charm.

So when Jack once again woke to the sound of his dog's growling –now a considerably deeper and more threatening sound – the little boy drew the dog to him in fright and glanced over the side of his bed. There was no monster there and Tiger Hunter was growling at the window this time. Clutching Tiger Hunter so close to his chest he could feel the tremor of his growl through his ribs, Jack timidly peeked out the window. It was dark both inside the room and out, well into the night, and through his small window he couldn't see much of anything. He strained to see outside, holding his dog closer and closer, so focused on the outside that he didn't hear the rapid approach of footsteps to his room. He nearly fell off the bed and crushed Tiger Hunter to his chest so tightly that the dog gave a pained yelp on the heels of Jack's frightened shriek when his door was torn open.

The sight of his mother hunched in the door way, one hand holding a candle to light the room and the other on her stomach calmed his nerves. Mommy's belly had gotten huge since Da left; the bump-baby was almost bigger than Mommy now. It looked stupid, Jack decided, stupid and funny looking.

Any other mean thoughts to the bump-baby were erased when cold terror washed over him. He looked up to Mommy in concern.

"Mommy?" He questioned, frightened himself now.

"Jack, we have to go."

"Where are we going?"

"We have to get out of here; just come on, honey," she urged, pulling Jack up and out of bed.

Tiger Hunter growled and Jack looked back out the window. There was a faint orange glow lighting sky and painting the horizon. Mommy let out a frightened yelp when she saw the light and pulled him along faster, calling Tiger Hunter to follow as they ran from the room. He didn't know why she was afraid of such a pretty light that was chasing away the dark, but he did know that he didn't like being pulled along and having to run. He wanted Mommy to carry him if they had to run so fast. But Mommy didn't, and wouldn't. Ever since the bump-baby grew so big, Mommy never carried him anymore. That stupid bump-baby always got in the way.

When Mommy got them outside she screamed, and Jack couldn't be mad at the bump-baby anymore. Oh, that's where the pretty orange light was coming from; the buildings were on fire. The light didn't seem so pretty any more, Jack decided as he cuddled to his mother.

"Mommy," he whined in fear as a cottage near their own caught fire.

"It's okay, baby," she assured, but she didn't believe it. She was holding Jack's hand too hard and it hurt and she was scared. And it made Jack even more scared. "We're going somewhere safe, come on."

Jack still wasn't comforted but they were running again and he couldn't think very much. There were a lot of people out running, holding possessions or family members as they scrambled away from the fires. They were all headed for the church in the center of town, screaming and crying. That it didn't feel right. Yes, church was safe, certainly safe from the 'savages' people were screaming about attacking them. But still, it felt like the wrong move. But the wind was wrapping around him and pulling his clothes toward the lake, and that felt right.

"Mommy," he objected, pulling his mother's hand the direction they needed to go. "Mommy, we should go this way."

"Jack, baby, we'll be safe in the church."

"No, we need to go this way!" He insisted.

His mother wouldn't listen and still pulled him toward the church. So he yanked his hand free and ran for the lake, Tiger Hunter darting around just in front of him. As he hoped, his mother followed, calling for him to come back. With the bump-baby so big Mommy wasn't fast enough to catch him. And with Mommy so big that she waddled as she ran, she caught the attention of the other running villagers, who followed to make sure she was alright. And the families of those following Mommy followed them. And that was how the majority of the village ended following a five year old to the safety of the trees on the opposite side of the lake.

As soon as Abigail wrapped her hands around Jack's shoulder, with the intent of shaking reason into the boy, the church got fire, burning like a candle. Abigail stared at the fire in shock before looking over to Jack, mouth gaping.

"Jack, how….how did you know?" She asked in an awed whisper.

Jack just shrugged and looked away, uncomfortable with Abigail's look. He didn't know the church was going to get on fire; he just knew it wasn't safe there. He shrank away when more of the villagers looked at him; some confused, others awed like Mommy and some were even scared. Scared of him, and suspicious. Scared and suspicious hurt his head more than angry and it made his heart go cold and he did not like it, Mommy make it stop! The focus zipped away from him, much to his relief, when the last of the villagers running from the church crashed into the foliage next to them.

One of them tried to run back as soon as they arrived, yelling and thrashing against the people holding him back. He was one of the new settlers—he'd moved down from a settlement up north with a small group. He was one of the people with the funny voices and light light skin. On top of his head was a mess of hair that looked like fire. Jack thought it was funny. But what wasn't funny was how scared he was; not the kind of scared the people were when they were looking at Jack, but scared like Mommy was when Jack was running out of her reach. Or how mad he got when the ones holding him told him to calm down; that made the funny man want to hit them.

"I willno' calm! My boy is back there!"

Yeah, he talked really funny—oh, wait. He was a Da, and he lost his little boy. That was _not_ funny, Jack thought. Jack frowned and moved ever so slightly away from his mother. Mommy wouldn't be happy with him, but there was a little boy out there that needed his Da; so Jack needed to find him and bring him back.

The wind blew through his hair again and he bolted forward to follow it. He ignored Mommy's yell for him to come back – and she was going to be really mad about that, he knew – and dodged the hands of the other adults trying to grab him and followed the breeze. He needed to bring the little boy back to his Da, and nothing was going to stop him. The wind lead him true and he found the boy – just his age – huddled against a tree, the flare of fire-hair giving him away in the dark vegetation.

Jack rushed over to the other boy and gently grabbed his arm, making the other jump with a small, frightened squeak. Bright green eyes dashed to meet amber-brown and filled with relief. The other boy clung to Jack and motioned around the tree, shaking like a leaf and breathing in ragged sobs.

Sending the other boy a reassuring look his Mommy would often give him when he was scared to the point of tears, Jack peeked around the tree slowly. On the other side was a man creeping through the bush. The man was dark, of skin and hair, mostly naked with an archer's weapon drawn. Jack had heard of people like him; people who wanted his family out of their home so they could keep it for themselves. He'd heard his parents and other adults talk about them; how they attacked other villages, demolished the homes and livestock of the towns they destroyed. From what he heard, they were monsters. But the man didn't look like a monster; he looked like an almost naked silly man. But he had a sharp archer's weapon, so he was bad and they needed to get away.

That in mind, he pulled the other boy's arm to urge him away. The boy with the orange-fire hair shook his head and huddled down more firmly against the tree. But Jack was determined and stronger than his small body would suggest and the silly- naked- bad- man was getting closer so he pulled until the other boy quickly followed. There was a hollered cry behind them and a tree in front of them was struck with an arrow. The boys screamed and ran faster, panicked at the sound of approaching footfall behind them. But their legs were little and could only carry them so far and before long they were forced to dive into the cover of bushes to hide until the man rushed by.

They lay there panting for a time, scared and cold. This was bad. Jack couldn't see the way back to the boy's Da and Jack's Mommy. They were lost and he could hear the man coming back. Jack was scared and the boy next to him was more scared and the man was angry – so, so angry—and the wind was howling in fear of its own and it all made Jack's head spin. He needed to think; the scary man was coming back and they needed to hide better. Jack shook his head to rid it of the nails and the cold as he looked around. Somewhere to hide that was better than the bushes. Tree!

Jack stuck his head out of the bush cautiously; making sure the man was still out of sight before he pulled the other boy to the nearest tree with branches low enough for them to reach. Then he pushed the lost one up, forcing him to climb while he watched for the not-so-silly man. Once the other boy was out of his reach, Jack followed, climbing higher and higher until they were out of the line of sight of the man who ran back to the bush in which they'd once hidden.

The two straddled the branches toward the top of the tree, hands touching as they both clung to the trunk. The boy with the fire-hair was shaking and scared and his fear was making Jack more and more nervous. Jack grasped the pale hand and gave it a good squeeze, gaining the gaze of shiny green eyes.

"My name's Jack," he whispered, careful not to attract the attention from below.

The other boy sent a fearful glance below, only looking back up when Jack gave his hand another squeeze. He huddled closer to the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes tight as he whispered his answer,

"Aidan."

Jack nodded and smiled, keeping a tight grip on Aidan's hand, trying his best to comfort the other boy.

"Don't worry, Aidan. I'll get you back to your Da."

"Papa?"

Aidan's gaze tore away from the wood of the tree and to Jack, who smiled reassuringly. Below them the man snarled and kicked at the bush, obviously furious that he couldn't find the boys. Jack swallowed uneasily and Aiden clutched his hand fearfully. The boys' gazes met again and Jack tried to be strong.

He took a breath and glanced down at the man and then at the branches surrounding him. There! A cluster of acorns. Perfect.

A devious smirk sliding into place comfortably on his face, Jack plucked a single acorn and rolled it between his fingers. Then he tossed it, sending it in a perfect arch toward the back of the man's head. The way the man sputtered at the tiny impact was priceless; just what he wanted. He plucked another and Aiden gave his hand a harsh squeeze in warning. Jack looked up and smiled, placing a finger to his lips when the boy shook his head frantically. The brunette boy just motioned for Aiden to wait and launched the acorn.

The reaction was just as funny the second time; Jack had to determinedly fight back giggles. Aiden looked at him liked he'd lost his mind as Jack continuously pelted the man below with the acorns. And then, finally, he handed one to Aidan. The other boy was fighting his own smile by that time and he took the acorn without hesitation. But he faltered before throwing it, looking to Jack uncertainly. When Jack gave an affirmative nod, he threw it. It sailed with much less skill than Jack's, but it still met its target with no problem. Aidan snorted a quiet laugh through his nose and he took and threw the next acorn eagerly.

On and on they rained down, from both boys, until the man was twisting around at each hit, looking terrified and something like an angry cat at the same time. He actually hissed at the last strike – from Aidan – and Jack couldn't stop the small giggle that slipped from his lips. He slapped a hand over his mouth the moment the sound echoed in the night, looking to Aidan in horror. The man below the looked up slowly, dark brown gaze meeting Jack's. Jack clung to the trunk and grasped Aidan's hand as he watched the man take two slow steps backward, eyes never leaving the young boys. Aidan whimpered as the man drew his arrow back and aimed it at the two boys perched in the tree.

Jack's heart was pounding and Aidan's hand was cold where he held it. He was afraid and Aidan was afraid and they were both going to _die_. No, no Jack didn't want to die and Aidan didn't want to die and they were scared, no, no please!

Then the man's weapon was suddenly jerked down and out of his hands. Jack blinked, sure he'd seen wrong and the man seemed just as shocked, looking at the space in front of him with an awed and fearful expression. And as Jack blinked once more, the woman appeared, holding the almost-naked-man's archer weapon tightly. It was impossible; one minute she wasn't there and the next she was.

She was tall, ethereal and beautiful. Dark and frightening; Jack couldn't look away. The woman's gaze bored into the man's, and he made frightened noises that might have been pleading as she tossed him aside with no effort. He didn't rise again. Jack sat gaping for a time, trying to decide if the woman was really there. He looked to Aidan, who stared at the same woman with the same astonishment.

"Aidan. Did you see….how did she…..did you see it?"

Aidan nodded dumbly, watching the woman stand utterly still below them, gazing at the base of their tree. The paler boy looked back to Jack.

"What is she?"

Jack looked down at the woman. Even if Aidan was frightened, Jack liked her. He found her presence was strong and calming. As if feeling his stare and his thoughts, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze and Jack gave a start. Her eyes were a liquid gold, beautiful and unlike anything he'd ever seen.

"I think she's an angel," he decided, clamoring down the branches with no fear to meet her.

The woman watched him climb down before shifting her gaze to Aidan. She held his sight just long enough to place a long finger to her lips and ensure he received the message. '_Don't tell anyone_.' Aidan nodded his understanding and, satisfied, she looked back to Jack. She smiled warmly and caught the boy as he dropped from the branch just above her.

"Hello there," she greeted.

"Thank you for saving us," Jack replied, beaming as the woman set him back on his feet.

The woman just smiled back and Jack turned his attention to where Aidan was trying to climb back down. The woman followed his gaze and gracefully lifted her hand. Aidan was gently torn from the trunk of the tree, where he hovered in mid-air for a terrifying moment before the woman lowered him slowly to the ground with a motion of her hand. Aidan rocked unsteadily on his feet and made his way over to Jack, clutching the other boy's shoulder. Now that the paler boy was safely on the ground, the woman turned her attention completely from Aidan and focused on Jack, crouching to his level so her brilliant eyes pierced into his.

"You have to learn to be more careful," she warned. She placed on hand on Jack's small shoulder, the other on his cheek. "The world is very dangerous and you have a big life ahead of you, little one. I want you to reach it."

In the distance to their left, Tiger Hunter barked and Jack heard his mother's frightened and very angry –uh-oh—call for him. The woman glanced in the same direction, registered it, and dismissed it for the time. There were important matters to attend.

"Can you keep a secret," the woman with gold eyes whispered, smiling when Jack's eyes bulged in excitement.

"Better than anyone ever!"

"I'm sure," she assured, amused. "You have to keep this secret," she continued, "seeing me, talking to me; you can't tell anyone."

"Why?"

"Because it's a secret," she explained, unwilling to go into the graphic details that would fly completely over the boys head. And the reason was more than good enough for the five year old.

"Okay! Aidan, you want to keep the secret with me?"

The other boy nodded, but he wasn't as excited as Jack. In fact, he was scared. Scared that people would hurt him and his Da because they were already different, and this would make them a crazy kind of different. And Aidan already knew what happened to crazy-different people. Confused and concerned for his new friend, Jack gently grabbed his hand, trying to calm him. The woman holding his other hand gave a small sound of interest and Jack looked back.

"Well, that's…interesting," she murmured, studying the small hand in her own.

Any other words she had on the matter were halted by another call from Jack's mother, this one accompanied by many other voices. They were getting closer. The woman sighed and for the first time Jack felt how worried she was. Worried for him. Jack frowned and gave her hand a squeeze and tried to calm her down the way he did Aidan.

The second he did, the center of his head exploded. The pain was cold and rough and it spread over the area of his forehead. It hurt, it hurt, make it stop! He gave a cry and released Aidan's hand to grab at the aching area. It felt like one of the nails of anger had been dipped in ice and were being drilled into the bone of his forehead.

Jack vaguely felt the woman drop his hand and heard Aidan call out to him as he fell to his knees. It was cold, colder than anything he'd ever felt and it was invading and it _hurt_. He didn't understand it; this never happened when he tried to make anyone feel better before. What was going on? Why wouldn't it stop?!

He was trembling and crying and though he might go mad when the cold started to recede. He blinked back the tears and managed to peek up through his bangs, his eyes meeting those brilliant golds. The woman's warm and soft hand settled in his hair, stroking until the cold was gone. She wiped his tears away when he tilted his head up fully and gave him a comforting smile.

"You have to be more careful, little one," she repeated. "And be safe."

She kissed his forehead, banishing the last of the cold, and then disappeared. Jack blinked dumbly at the empty space where she'd been as he regained his breathing and lazily looked up to where Aidan crouched over him. The other boy was scared and worried and that wasn't helping Jack's tender head. But _Jack_ was too scared and too hurt to try to calm him, so he just grimaced through it.

"_Jack!_" Mommy's call was just next to him and it was enough to get him back on his feet, shaking the last of the intense pain from his head.

"Mommy! We're over here! Come on, Aidan."

The other boy stayed rooted against Jack's pulls until Jack finally looked back at him. Aidan didn't know what had happened between the strange woman and the other boy, but it obviously hurt him. And Aidan was worried about him.

"I'm okay," Jack promised.

Aidan let out a relieved breath and let Jack drag him along, not at all unsettled that Jack knew his worry without needing him to say anything as long as his friend was alright. They ran toward the voices, returning the calls as they grew closer. Jack's Mommy and Aidan's Da were at the front of the group searching for them, and Aidan spotted them first, dashing forward.

"Papa!"

The man's head whipped over to them and he almost fell to his knees in relief. Aidan ran full speed into his father's arms, burying his face into the large chest.

"_A gasúr," _the man whispered, close to tears as he held Aidan close.

Jack smiled, proud. He got Aidan back to his Da – or Papa, apparently – and now they were happy. That was good, he decided. But he also decided it was _bad_ when his terrified mother grabbed his shoulders and twirled him around.

"Jackson Nathaniel Overland!" Oh yeah, full name; very bad. "You gave me a heart attack! Don't you ever do that again! Do you hear me?!" She shrieked, giving his shoulders a good shake. Then she deflated and pulled him desperately close to her chest, tucking his mop of dark hair under her chin. Her voice trembled next time she spoke and she held him just a little too tightly. "Oh baby, you scared my half to death," she sobbed, her voice cracking at the end. She held Jack so close to her he almost smooshed the bump-baby, but she was sad and scared so Jack held her back.

"I'm sorry, Mommy."

"It's okay baby. I'm just glad you're okay."

Jack snuggled into his mother's arms until she wasn't so scared. The safe feel and smell of mom made him feel better too and finally the cold ball in the center of his chest – not the kind of cold from the angel lady, but still unpleasant – went away. Much better, he decided with a happy sigh.

"Madam?"

Keeping Jack tucked firmly against her, Abigail turned the man who was keeping Aidan just as close. Jack smiled and waved happily at said boy and Aidan waved back eagerly, if a bit shyly.

"I would just like ta thank your lad. Fer saving mine," he smiled down at the pale boy clinging to his leg.

"You saved that boy, honey?"

"No it was—"Oh, wait, not supposed to tell. Keeping the pretty angel lady secret was harder than he thought. "I just had us hide and climb the tree. And throw acorns at the silly man," he corrected.

"You did what?" Abigail demanded, confused at half the story and angry and concerned at what she did understand. Did Jack honestly antagonize the man trying to kill him?

"Well, sounds like you saved him ta me, boy-o," Aidan's Papa declared with a chuckle.

"I cannot tell you how much this means to me. So anything I kin do fer you, either of you, consider it done." He directed the last to Abigail, offering his hand. She hesitated a moment before taking it, smiling when the man gave her hand a gentlemanly kiss. "Rian O'Shea," he introduced.

"Abigail Overland."

"Anything I can do fer you, Mrs. Overland." A promise more than a question.

"I can do it. I promised Da."

Mr. O'Shea gave a full hearted laugh as he looked down to Jack. He smirked back up at Abigail.

"Stubborn lad, id 'nit he?"

"Can't talk him out of anything."

Mr. O'Shea was laughing again when he knelt before Jack. He grasped Jack's shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. His were as bright as Aidan's, only a sky blue rather earthly green. Everything about him was light. Light light skin, sparkling eyes, burning hair. Jack found it fascinating.

"Then what _can_ I do fer you, lad?"

Jack bit his lip and looked up at his mother. Then he offered Mr. O'Shea a shy smile.

"Can I play with Aidan tomorrow?"

Mr. O'Shea blinked and then let loose another full bellied laugh. He sent Abigail a bemused smile as he rose.

"I see no problem with that. Aidan?" The pale boy nodded excitedly and beamed at Jack. "There ya have it then. We'll see you 'round, lad."

Jack nodded and waved with a big smile as his mother pulled him along, following the crowd back to their village. Making a new friend was the best way to end a day, no matter how bad the day had started out. Always.

They were lucky; much of their village was untouched by the fires and what was marred was still salvageable. Not bad for a major attack on their small settlement. Jack's home in particular was amazingly unharmed despite the proximity of the fire and Jack was thrilled. The evening was taking the best of turns. Until Jack had to go back to bed, that is.

As soon as Jack was back under the covers, Mommy declared that Tiger Hunter was getting too big to sleep on the bed with Jack. So now the dog had to sleep on the floor next to the bed; or, as Mommy decided, by the fire in the front of the house. It didn't matter how much Jack protested, Mommy was firm on her point, annoyed and tired and wanted to get off her feet. So there was no way out of it, and Jack was left alone in the dark room without his charm. The first night, nothing happened; there were only a few hours of night left and Jack slept like a rock in a dreamless sleep.

But within the week, the nightmares returned. Every night for a month, Jack jolted awake in the dead of the night, trembling and in tears. They varied in the beginning, but the nightmares all ended the same: Jack would be standing over a crib, looking at the small bundle of blankets resting inside. Then the bundle would start to cry, and Jack would try to comfort it, but the bundle would just scream at his touch. And while Jack would look down at it, frozen and confused, Mommy would gather up the bundle and shush it gently, not sparing a glance to Jack as she would take the bundle over to Da. Then they would both walk out, and no matter how fast Jack ran, he could never catch them and no matter how loud he screamed, they never turned back. And in the end they would slam the door and leave Jack alone in darkness.

Functioning during the day became more and more difficult the worse the nightmares got and the less sleep he could fit in during the night. Jack could hardly pull himself out of bed and when he did it was to lumber around in an exhausted daze until it was time to fall back into bed. It terrified his mother, who watched the rings under her son's eyes darken by the day in frightened helplessness. She couldn't figure out what was wrong, and she couldn't figure out how to fix it.

By the time Abigail's belly looked ready to pop, Jack had stop sleeping all together at night, only falling into exhausted slumber when he couldn't force his eyes open and in the broad of daylight. But those small portions of sleep weren't enough and he was to the point of barely functioning, spending every night staring at the small candle he kept by his bed side; the light was the only thing that kept him awake. The tiny glow wasn't nearly strong enough to banish the dark that seemed to move like a living being.

Jack swallowed and curled up, forcibly tearing his gaze from the shadows back to the candle. Had to stay awake; stay awake, keep away the nightmares. Forever, if necessary. He kept the mantra going, curling up tighter as the shadows swirled around him and seemed to whisper. When the shadows pooled under his bed, all rational thought flew from his mind and he whimpered and curled into as tight a ball as he could. The shadows shifted into a familiar thin form and Jack let the dam of tears flow as the sharp features of the man's face leaned in close.

"Avoiding sleep, are we?" The man tsked, waving a scolding finger in Jack's frightened face. "Naughty."

"Momm—"A large hand – grey, Jack noted through his fearful haze – clapped over his mouth, trapping his cry in his throat.

"Now, now, none of that. Your mother needs her rest; she's carrying such a heavy burden, after all. I always find it so sad," the man continued, removing his hand now that Jack was absolutely focused on his words, "that a family only has room for one baby in their home." He let the statement hang in the air, and was rewarded with a hushed, frightened voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you noticed?" The feigned shock was lost on the five year old, but it was no less satisfying for it. "The way your father is gone more, how your mother can hardly spare you a moment. They're working their way up to when they won't have any attention for you anymore."

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it, though? Why else would they be so focused on the new baby if they're not planning a replacing you?" The Boogeyman laughed as Jack paled. Then he schooled his features back to sympathy and shook his head. "It's a sad fact, but parents only have enough love for one child. When a cuter baby comes along, well; you've already seen what will happen."

"No!" They were just bad dreams. Not real, _not real_!

"Oh yes. They'll leave you. All alone, in the dark."

"No! No, no, no, _no_!"

"And there are things in the dark that just can't wait to gobble up abandoned little boys," he added, playing with a spike of Jack's messy hair.

Jack had no reply to that. He tried, giving sputters of denial as the Boogeyman fiddled with his hair. But he was too terrified to adequately contradict the shadow monster.

It wasn't true, he tried to tell himself. It couldn't be true. But, Da did say he had to leave more for the bump-baby. And Mommy wouldn't carry him anymore and all she ever talked about anymore was how excited she was for the bump-baby and no no no no, it wasn't true! The Boogeyman was talking again, but Jack couldn't hear him because he was scared he didn't want the monsters to get him Mommy _please don't let them get me don't leave me Mommy_!

He could hear the Boogeyman laughing, and then he was yelling. And then he was quiet. Jack pried an eye open, unable to remember when he'd closed them in his haze of terror. His room was empty, even the heavy shadows were gone, like the Boogeyman was never there. Then he heard the shadow monster's angry voice just outside his window.

He scrambled away from the window, and darted under his bed when the sound of yelling and fighting crashed outside, forgetting in his terror that his haven was where the danger had come from in the first place. The Boogeyman sounded mad, yelling about 'letting him do his job' and how annoying it was to interfere. Jack didn't understand what he was talking about, but all the yelling frightened him. He eventually slapped his hands over his ears and hid his face in his knees while he waited for the fight to stop, curled up on his side under his bed. He was stiff and sore with terror when it finally went quiet.

When he mustered the courage to peek up over the side, there was a bright glow, too bright to be from his small candle. He yelped and scrambled back into the shadows of his bed. He didn't know what was up there, but it couldn't be good if it was talking with the Boogeyman. All he could do as the glow grew brighter as it came closer was hope; please, please don't find him, whatever you are please don't find me!

A little golden face—actually gold, gold and made of _sand_— peeked under his bed and Jack forgot to be afraid. So pretty! The man peering under his bed was glowing, literally glowing and smiling at Jack with the most gentle of smiles. Jack felt at ease with his presence, so much so that he crawled out from under the bed without hesitation when the man motioned for him. Jack was almost a head taller than the man when standing; yet he still felt like he was being reprimanded by a parent when the glowing man wagged a finger at him.

A mesmerizing set of images appeared over the little man's head, and Jack couldn't feel reprimanded anymore. A line of z's with an big x through them played out and the man wagged his finger again.

"Don't you talk?"

If the man thought Jack was a little rude to ignore whatever he was signing, he didn't make a fuss about it. The little glowing man shook his head and Jack felt a little sad for him. Not being able to talk sounded awful. But the man smiled and made more pictures over his head. Jack gave a gasp and smiled back.

"That's a fun way to talk," he decided.

The man nodded and repeated the first set of images. It was hard to understand the words without actual words, but Jack loved guessing games and he was smart. It didn't take too long to figure out what the man was 'saying'. And once he got over the excitement of puzzling it out, Jack was not happy.

"The Boogeyman won't let me dream. And Mommy took Tiger Hunter so he won't stay away and I can't go to sleep!" He protested, begging the little man to understand, because he clearly thought Jack should be sleeping.

And to his relief, the glowing man understood perfectly. Jack sagged and watched the little images dance over wild hair that rivaled his. An x over the silhouette of the Boogeyman, a mother and child hugging, and a dog. That one took longer to understand, but the repeated shape of a dog locked the answer.

"You'll keep me safe?" He guessed and jumped in joy when the man nodded.

Then he was once again guided back to his bed and tucked in. He didn't know how the little man would protect him from the shadow monster, but he believed he would. And it was good enough.

"Who are you?"

The little man smiled and painted more pictures over his head. A pile of sand, that was easy. A…Da? No. A person? Sandperson? No, that didn't sound right.

Oh!

"Sandman?"

He received a proud nod and smiled happily and let the Sandman blow a small handful of dust into his eyes. He was drowsy instantly and he was very ready for a goodnights sleep. He sank into sleep and sweet dreams under the Sandman's comforting glow.

The Boogeyman didn't bother him again.

Mr. O'Shea was very dedicated to his promise to help Jack and his Mommy. Even though Jack insisted that he could take care of everything, he was still a little boy and he needed time to himself so he could play. And that was where Mr. O'Shea came in handy. That way Jack could give him details instructions on taking care of Mommy – make sure she lies down, make her lots of food, rub her head, rub her back; the basics – and Jack could play with Aidan and his introduce his new friend to Chris and Charlie and they could all have fun together. Jack was pretty sure that Mr. O'Shea didn't follow all of his instructions, but Mommy was looked after and he could play, so that was alright. Over all, Jack really liked Mr. O'Shea; he was nice and helped take care of Mommy like a Da.

So when Mommy was ready to have the new baby, the first person Jack went to get – after the midwife, Mommy was very clear on getting the grumpy mean lady as quick as possible – was Mr. O'Shea. Da still wasn't back, and Mommy was hurting, and Jack had been sitting alone in the front room for what felt like forever and he was scared. So he didn't care that it might have been a little rude that he dragged Mr. O'Shea and Aidan to his house to sit with him. Hearing Mommy scream so much was really scary.

Jack flinched and swallowed thickly when Mommy screamed even louder. He didn't want to cry in front of Mr. O'Shea, but his tears didn't seem to want to let him act like a big boy. Luckily, Mr. O'Shea didn't mind and just gave Jack shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"It'll be alright, lad."

"Why's Mommy screaming?"

Mr. O'Shea rubbed the tense little back until the lump in Jack's throat loosened. Only when Jack relaxed next to him did he answer.

"Because bringing a littlun into the world his tough work, lad."

Oh, so it was because of the bump-baby. Jack let the rising bubble of anger and annoyance cover the pool of cool dread in the pit of his stomach as he scowled. Stupid bump-baby; it was ruining everything. Mr. O'Shea glanced down when Jack tensed and started to tremble under his hand. When Mrs. Overland let out another scream from behind the closed door – something that told him the birth was going rather roughly – he caught Jack's attention with a warm smile.

"You wanna go outside, boy-o?"

Jack nodded after a moment's thought and followed Mr. O'Shea outside. Once out the door, Jack darted to where Aidan sat play with a handful of marbles with Tiger Hunter running circles happily around to him. Mr. O'Shea stood leaning against the door frame, watching as the two boys played, considerably quieter than they normally would. Just nervous because of the tense situation, he decided.

"Your Mum's having a baby?" Aidan asked voice kept at a low whisper.

"Yeah."

Jack's answer was just as quiet. He couldn't quite muster the will for his usual energy.

"You're not excited?"

Jack just shrugged and became intently interested in one of Aidan's marbles, patting Tiger Hunter's muzzle as the dog settled down next to him.

"You'll be a good big brother."

"Course you will."

Jack smiled as convincingly as he could at the reassurances. He guessed Aidan and his Papa wouldn't understand it. After all, Mr. O'Shea only had Aidan to love, so the other boy never needed to worry about the consequences of a new baby.

Jack was saved from having to act excited by the sound of an approaching wagon. Then he beamed at the sight of his father, anger and dread forgotten. It felt like Da had been gone forever! Jack bolted forward to his father's waiting arms like he always did, so happy to be held and picked up like normal.

"My boy. How are your mother and the baby? I haven't missed the baby, have I?"

And just like that, all the happy feelings were gone. William frowned when Jack didn't answer, brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Then he all but crushed the five year old to his chest when Mr. O'Shea walked from the doorway over to them.

"Your wife is bringing your littlun inside," Mr. O'Shea supplied.

"And you are," William began, eying the man.

"Rian O'Shea. " He offered his hand and William hesitantly took it. "I've been looking after your wife and lad."

"Have you now?"

Da wasn't happy about that no matter how light his voice was. He didn't like Mr. O'Shea, which Jack didn't understand. Why wouldn't he like Mr. O'Shea?

"Yes. I own your family, and you, quite the debt. Your son saved my boy," Mr. O'Shea explained, smiling and calm despite knowing that Jack's Da didn't like him.

"He, he did?"

"Oh yes. That's a very brave lad you have there. But, now is not the time to talk of that. We'll discuss later, you're wife needs you."

William nodded dumbly, too excited by the news of his new child coming and confused by the conversation to make since of much. He made a note to have a real discussion with the man as Jack called a farewell to the boy at the other man's feet and decided to focus on excited. The second they crossed the threshold, they were greeted by the shrilled cry of an infant. William almost dropped his first born in surprise and delight, doing a small dance as he set Jack down.

"Let's go meet your brother or sister."

Jack scowled but followed his Da to his parent's room just as the midwife stepped out. The woman came to a surprised halt when she saw William, then gave a half pleased, half mocking smile.

"Mr. Overland, glad you could join us. It's a girl," she went on before he could protest, "a healthy, very beautiful little girl. Congratulations."

She smiled and left without another word, trusting William to be experienced enough to deal with everything on his own. William bolted into the room before the midwife was all the way out of the house, leaving Jack dragging his feet behind him. Jack was seething when he convinced himself to go into the room – because anger was better than the cold cold terror that would have left him curled up in a shaking ball on the ground – grumbling at his father cooing at the little bundle in his mother's arms. When his father looked up and motioned him over, Jack snapped, half way to tears.

"Jack, come meet your sister."

And Jack just screamed, "I don't want her!" and ran from the room. Jack scrambled under their table and hugged his knees, trying not to cry, and failing. He was reduced to tiny, hiccupped sobs when his father walked to the table and crouched down to peek under. He guessed this was it. This was how they were going to replace him with that new stupid baby girl. He launched into a new fit of sobs.

"You want to tell me what this is about?" William asked when Jack's sobs quieted.

"You don't want me!" Jack accused through his tears. "You have a new, cuter baby and now you don't want me!"

"Oh, Jack," he sighed, running a hand over his face. The he smiled, and glanced to where Jack was keeping his face hidden in his knees.

"Oh dear, it seems my son has lost faith in my love for him," William mused. "How do I fix that? Oh, I know."

Jack let out a shrilled cry as William snatched him out from under the table. Then he giggled uncontrollably as his Da proceeded to mercilessly tickle him. The little boy laughed to the point of tears as William alternated between the tickles and blew on Jack's belly. Only when the five year old was on the brink of wetting himself did William settle back on his heels, smoothing down Jack's messy hair.

"Jack," he began, drawing the boy's gaze. "I love you more than anything, remember? Nothing will ever change how much your mother and I love you. Certainly not this. We'll always love you that much; we just have to make more room in our hearts for your sister now."

"You can do that?"

"Of course we can."

"Okay," Jack conceded with no further argument.

William smiled and drew Jack back into his arms. Jack snuggled into his Da's broad chest and William held him tight enough to banish any doubts of his love.

"Now, let's go say hello to your sister. From the sounds of it, I say she thinks you hate her," he said, referring to the constant cries of the baby girl back in William and Abigail's room.

And just like he wanted, Jack gave a dramatic gasp and bolted. William laughed and shook his head as he followed, arriving just in time to see Jack bouncing the side of the bed to try to look at the little girl's face, babbling a mile a minute.

"I'm sorryofcourseIwantyou yoursoprettyandperfect andI'msosorry."

"Jack, honey, calm down."

"She has to know I don't hate her!" Jack objected, near hysteria.

Abigail sent a scolding look to William, who smiled shyly and shrugged. _It worked didn't it?_ Abigail rolled her eyes and smiled at her son.

"Of course she knows, baby. Look how happy she is now that you're here."

Well, in reality, the infant had fallen asleep after her feeding. But the five year old didn't need to know that as long as he was soothed. Jack's smile replaced worry and he peeked up to gaze at the tiny face swaddled in the blankets in their mother's arms.

"She's so cute," he declared, sending his happy smile to his mother, past animosity completely forgotten.

"Yes, she is."

"Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can."

Jack clapped happily and prepared to take the baby from his mother, only to have William steer him away and instruct him to sit down. Once Jack had done so, his Da gathered the baby from Mommy's arms, and had Jack copy the position of his arms before setting the baby girl gently in the cradle of her brother's arms. Jack smiled in amazement as he supported the little head the way William told him, staring at the tiny face in his arms. Her face was perfectly round and porcelain white. She had thick and pretty lashes on her closed eyes, a cute little button nose above little pink lips. And just to the side of her left eye was a small dark mark that Jack found just adorable.

"Jack, meet Maryann Louise: your little sister."

"She's so tiny," Jack commented after another long time of studying the little face.

"Yes, she is, and very fragile. That's why she needs a good big brother to look after her."

"I can do that," he promised, never looking away from Maryann's sleeping face. "I love her, Da. Can I keep her?"

William held back a laugh when Jack's eyes finally met his, fully sincere in the question. He did smile, however, and pressed Jack's bangs out of his eyes.

"Of course you can. She's your sister, after all."

That made Jack smile even more. His little sister. She was his little sister and he was her big brother. The fact made him feel all warm and happy and with how the baby snuggled to him – opening her eyes to reveal huge pupils with hints of brown at the edges – he knew she felt the same.

"Hi Mary," he whispered, careful to be really quiet as the baby went back to sleep. "I'm your big brother, and I'm going to take good care of you. And don't worry, we'll have a lot of fun together," he promised, thrilled for the future of fun with his little sister.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

Fun with his baby sister took a lot longer than Jack would have liked. At first, all Mary would do was sleep and cry. Then when she got bigger, she would sleep, cry and eat. It wasn't until she learned how to crawl that she was anything remotely close to fun. And even then, Jack couldn't play with her until she was even bigger. But Jack forced himself to be patient, and it was worth it.

Now that Mary was a toddler, due to be three in the coming summer, she was energetic enough to keep up with her nine year old brother. It was worth the wait, by far. The two would spend hours together – or however long Abigail told him to keep Mary entertained before he could play with his friends – and it didn't bother Jack. Most of the time, anyway. Right now, he was just having her chase him in circles until she got tired. It was still pretty fun; Tiger Hunter chased after them as he tried to herd them and Mary giggled all the while.

Then she squealed and darted to the road passing their house. Jack laughed and ran after her, before coming to a surprised stop. How did she do that? The girl had some kind of super-sense for when either of their parents were near-by. It baffled him; _he_ couldn't do that.

"Da-ey! Da-ey, Da-ey!"

Giving another laugh, Jack followed his younger sibling to hug/attack their Da. Mary's squealing approach had William turning just in time to crouch down and catch the girl as she threw herself into his arms. Jack did the same and William staggered.

"My arms! They're not big enough to hold you both. Going down!"

William fell onto his back to confirm the cry, dragging his laughing children down with him. The two bounced on his stomach; Jack tickled him while Mary just nuzzled her head on his chest.

"You made it back for Christmas!" Jack noticed, thrilled by the fact as he beamed at his breathless father.

"Of course I did. Have I ever missed a Christmas?"

"Nope!" Mary chimed, resuming her bouncing fun on William's upper stomach.

"Kids, let your father come inside," Abigail called from the door.

"Mom, can I go now?!" Jack asked as William gathered the laughing two year old in his arms and went inside.

"Yes, go. Join the Terror Squad. Just be home by dark!" She called after the boy as he darted off to meet the other three boys playing just past their home.

"Terror Squad?" William asked from where he gave their daughter a spin that had her laughing hysterically.

"Those four are going to tear this town out from under us, I swear it."

William chuckled and watched the four dart into town. Even from a distance, William could easily pick out Aidan's crop of flaming red hair as the boy bounced along next to Jack, chatting happily. That made the other two –one with a mess of light brown hair and the other with a similar mop of dirty blonde – Chris and Charlie. The four had been inseparable since they met at age five. William was forced to agree with his wife; they were nothing but trouble alone. When they were together, it was time to just batten down the hatches and wait out the storm.

Just as ordered, Jack was back before sunset. Just barely. He cheerfully waved goodbye to his friends as he step away from the chilly air outside, laughing all the way. While William always thought the sound of his boy's laugh was cause for happiness, Abigail recognized the very devious tone in the chuckle and stiffed.

"What did you do?" She demanded, turning away from supper preparations to stare the nine year old down.

"Nothing!" Jack protested, eyes wide in feigned shock and insult. "So little faith in me, Mom."

Abigail only raised an eyebrow and waited, trying not to show hurt at the name. Shortly after Jack's ninth birthday, he'd traded out 'Mommy' for 'Mom', declaring himself too old for such a term of endearment for his mother. It hurt more than Abigail cared to think. But, staying on point, she kept her glare steady. Glancing up from where he bounced Mary on his lap – greatly pleasing the little girl – William smiled at the small contest of wills.

"Causing trouble, my boy?"

"Yeah, Jack declared, more than happy to admit such a thing to his Da. "Mr. Barnes' vein almost burst!"

That was in reference to an elder in the village, Jonas Barnes. Barnes was hardly ever seen in the village with the exception of his weekly trips to the market. He was the closest thing to a recluse the village could come up with, and it made him subject to suspicion, and, due to his particular brand of anger, a source of entertainment for the older village children.

"Jack, I've told you to stop tormenting that poor man."

"But he makes it so funny! His face gets all red and that vein bulges and he heaves. It's great!"

"Jack—"

"Troublemaker!" William interrupted. "You're lucky Christmas is already here, otherwise Santa might have decided you're too much of a nuisance for presents.

"Santa, Santa!"

Mary clapped gleefully. Jack, on the other hand, paled. No presents on Christmas, the only time he for certain would get any kind of gifts?

"Can he really do that?" Jack asked nervously.

"I think you're safe for now, but you best be on good behavior for next Christmas."

Jack nodded eagerly and instantly jumped up to help when Abigail called that supper was to be moved to the table. William chuckled and shook his head. That might have bought them a few months of good behavior. Maybe. The boy was a hellion, nothing to be done about it, he decided as he went back to bouncing Mary.

The next morning was marked by Mary jumping on his legs as she jabbered incoherently. The two had been sharing a room since Mary was old enough to sleep through the night, so Jack was always the first in the house Mary would wake up. Giving an annoyed groan Jack tried to shove her away and rolled onto his other side. It only made Mary more determined.

"Jack, wake up! Wake up Jack! Christmas Christmas Jack!"

That had Jack up and out of bed to the window in a blink. Yes! It was morning –and there was snow! It _was _Christmas! Bouncing with just as much excitement as his sister, Jack pulled the girl out of their room and to their parents'. It was the first year that Mary could really understand Christmas, and be truly excited about it, so it made the morning all the more thrilling. The two forced their sleepy eyed parents out to the front, where a handful of colorful presents lay under their shrimp-y tree. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make the two children go starry eyed.

They dove into the presents eagerly, with Tiger Hunter jumping happily next to them. For the most part they were winter garments: scarves and jackets for each. But in the midst were two specific gifts. Little Mary unwrapped a small poppet, with dark hair and a small round face. The girl squealed in delight and hugged the toy to her chest while jack let out a similar sound as his gift revealed a pair of ice skates. He'd wanted a pair ever since the tradesmen had brought news of the popularity of fun on ice. It sounded more fun than anything he'd ever heard of.

Jack demanded his father take him to the lake to learn how to use them as soon as they were freed from the wrapping. He dragged his laughing father out of the doorway, only pausing to pull on proper winter wear, leaving his mother and sister to play with the new poppet. They returned only a few short moments later, Jack shivering and on the verge of tears while William promised to teach him when the ice was thicker.

It turned out the weather just wasn't quite cold enough for thick ice. The first step Jack took on the ice, too fast for his father to warn him, plunged his foot into icy cold water. He may not have gotten to use his skates, but it was still an important lesson learned that day: it was difficult to tell how safe the ice was, but the whiter it was, the more dangerous. So it was always better to check before stepping on.

With the exception of Jack, Easter was the favorite holiday of all the village children. It was the sign that the harsh, cold and frightening months of winter were on their way out and that warmer times were to replace them. It also promised gifts of brightly colored eggs and chocolates. While it wasn't the same as winter, there was enjoyment to be had in spring, especially around Easter. All the kids playing and laughing as they hunted for the eggs and the adults finally at ease. It was a thing of beauty. And Jack loved playing with his sister and the other little kids as they looked for their treasures.

Jack's parents had given him the job of helping his little sister through the hunt started the year before with her first Easter and he was all too happy to do so as he looked for the eggs himself. He stayed at her side all through the day, guiding her to easily found eggs, applauding her success when she would show off her find. And as the hours passed, more and more of the younger kids joined up with them, until almost every child in the village was following the two Overland siblings. And every one of those kids went home with a basket full of eggs and a happy smile on their faces.

Apparently the parents had been impressed, because this year they very eagerly sent their children to Jack for the day. On the one hand, it was pretty cool. It ensured a whole day of fun with the littler kids, something that became very rare after his seventh birthday – last Easter being the exception – when he'd started school. He was expected to act like a big boy and play with kids his own age. So this would be a nice change. On the other hand, he was still considered too old to spend any time with the younger ones, chaperone or not. So his friends made it a point to tease him relentlessly about being on 'baby watch'. And while he got them back with a 'you'll be jealous when I bring back definitive proof of the Easter Bunny' which did get them pretty jealous, his mood was still soured. But the kids still had the time of their lives, so all in all it wasn't _too_ horrible an Easter.

They traveled deep into the woods, following the colorful trail of eggs. Jack may have been just a little too enthused as he led the other children through the trees, having them march along happily behind him as he moved well passed the lake and further away from the village. It wasn't long before the town was well out of sight, completely blocked by the towering trees. By the time Jack decided it was time to head back everyone was wiped out well and good from the long hike and were more than ready for bed. So Jack set back out, the younger kids trailing behind him and chatting about the eggs they found.

When they trekked through the woods until their feet felt like lead, Jack felt a nag of worry in the back of his mind as he realized he wasn't quite sure where they were. When the sun started to sink below the trees, they couldn't recognize anything around them and Jack was frightened. When it was so dark they could no longer risk continuing on, Jack and the others were utterly terrified and had no idea how to get back to the village. They ended up huddled together in the dark, for both warmth and comfort, talking in terrified whispers.

"Jack," one of the older kids – but still so young, not even seven years old – implored, "are we lost?"

"No, no," he assured, maybe a bit too quickly. "We're just, we're having an adventure, and waiting for our parents to pick us up."

It was a pathetic excuse, and anyone over the age of five saw right through it. Luckily, most of the kids were comforted by it and visibly relaxed. Happy with the result, Jack tucked Mary closer to his side and suggested they dig into their eggs. And all of them – even those who knew they were all in serious danger – eagerly did so, and the grave air hanging over them lifted for the moment. Sighing as the kids happily ate their chocolates, Jack gazed at the trees. They were in trouble, and it was on him to get these younger kids out of it. It was a lot of expectation and responsibility to place on a nine year old, and it scared him. He wished he had Tiger Hunter, his lucky charm; it would have been much easier with his dog with him. But Tiger Hunter was back home with Mom and Da, and Jack was the only one there to take on the responsibility to get his charges home. Besides, it was his fault they were in this position in the first place.

In his intense focus on the trees as he let his thoughts wander, Jack saw the slightest shift of shadows next to the group. Hissing sharply through his nose, Jack crushed his little sister to him, making her yelp and drawing the attention of the others. Forcing down his fear, Jack sent the others a small smile and climbed to his feet, claiming he had to 'find a tree-bathroom'. It was a weak excuse and a weaker joke, but Jack darted off before he had to face it.

When he came to where he'd seen the shadow, there was no sign of danger. No Boogeyman – his first guess – or anything else that could cause them harm – his second guess. Just a small, multicolored, glittered egg at his feet. He frowned when he knelt down to pick it up. What was this doing here? Maybe they were closer to the village then they thought, he wondered hopefully, if there was an egg here. With hope sparked, Jack wandered forward and in a few steps he came across a second egg. Another few steps, and there was another. Even more steps and yet another. Convinced he already knew where this trail of eggs would leave, Jack darted back the way he came, a happy and eager smile on his face. He was going to do it, he was going to get them home!

Elation turned to dread as he heard an unmistakable howl that was far too close for comfort. He pushed himself harder and came crashing through the trees to the other kids. A few gave frightened yelps from where they were huddled up even tighter while they looked about anxiously. Jack tried to give an easy and comforting smile while he caught his breath, but the howls were getting closer and they were getting scared.

"Hey, we're gonna play a game," he insisted, ignoring the cold feeling pooling in his chest. "We're gonna have a contest to see who can collect the most eggs. Sound like fun?"

The idea of a game wasn't enough to totally banish the fear of the things in the dark, but it still got them moving a bit faster than they would have in an utter terror. Small favors, he decided as he ushered them all in front of him. When they actually caught sight of the egg trail, the kids became fully engrossed in the game. Jack smiled as he watched the fear lift, but still kept himself behind them all; both to herd them in the right the direction and so he could hear the growls and sound of padded paws following just behind them. He swallowed down terror and urged them on as subtly as he could.

When the village came into sight, Jack's legs went to jelly and he gave a trembling sigh of relief. The others had similar reactions, bouncing in joy and giving happy calls. And then there were squeals of terror.

Jack had them running toward the lights of the village before the others could pinpoint what it was that had the screamers so afraid. He risked a glance back as they went, and felt his blood freeze at the sight of the line of wolves advancing them. There weren't that many of them, really. Just three or four. But he knew well that there was no way a group of children would be able to outrun them. And four was more than enough to do unspeakable damage.

So the wolves needed something else to chase. Decision made, he came to a grinding halt, urging the others to go on as he changed direction. And when the beasts didn't follow him immediately, he tossed a hand-sized rock with perfect accuracy to the lead wolf's head. It had the desired effect – something he wasn't entirely sure he was happy about – and the small pack changed direction and went after him. They closed in on him in a blink. Refusing to look back, he made his way to the nearest tree as fast as his legs could carry him – and _man_ he wished he had longer legs!—and jumped up to the only branch within reach.

He pulled himself up only a fraction of an inch when a jaw locked around his ankle. He let out a pained screamed as he was pulled down, branch and all. Once he hit the ground – landing flat on his back and knocking all the breath from his lungs – the wolf jerked it's from side to side until Jack thought it would tear his ankle off. He screamed and he cried out and he tried to kick the wolf off or to try to hit it with what remained of the branch but nothing worked. It just held on tighter and then the other wolves moved in closer. He swung the branch about frantically, unable to see through his tears. They were going to eat him, oh god, they were going to eat him and he was going to die. He cried and flinched away, clenching his eyes tightly shut. He was half unconscious by that time and quickly blacking out. He vaguely thought to be grateful that he wouldn't be awake to feel the wolves eat him when he heard the beasts yelp. Then he felt the teeth in his ankle recede and he sighed. That felt much better, he decided hazily.

When he felt himself being gently lifted off the ground he tried to pry his eye open. His sight was blackening around the edges, so he couldn't tell much about the person carrying him except that they were tall. He groaned and rolled his head back to look right at the face. He still couldn't see anything but it alerted whoever was holding him that he was awake.

"Hang on, anklebitter. Ya did good, an' yer gonna be alright."

He talked funny, whoever he was. It made Jack smile giddily.

"Mr. O'Shea?" He murmured.

Whoever it was didn't answer, or didn't get the chance to. As Jack blacked out, he realized that it couldn't be Mr. O'Shea. Because Mr. O'Shea didn't have furry arms.

Jack woke up some time later to his father screaming for him. He propped himself up to look around and winced in discomfort. He was stiff from lying on the ground, light headed and his foot hurt. But he wasn't dead, so, not bad even if he was miserable. He was trying to push himself up all the way when William rushed over and wrapped Jack up in his arms. Jack winced when his tender ankle was jostled when William lifted him, rushing him back to the village.

"I'm sorry, Da," he slurred. "I got us lost; I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad at you. I'm not. I'm just glad you're safe."

Jack hummed and leaned against William's solid chest. Da's heart was beating a mile a minute and he was very scared. Jack snuggled into Da's warmth and tried to assure him that he was alright. It calmed him down enough to slow his pounding heat, but he was still frightened. Jack's tilted head directed his line of sight to his aching ankle and for a moment he forgot about Da being so scared.

It wasn't bleeding; in fact it was tightly wrapped.

"I'm okay," he promised, nuzzling his father's chest. "Mr. O'Shea saved me." Then he passed out again before William could question him on that.

Jack ankle was snapped in two places. Or so he was told as he was confined to bed rest – which he hated more than anything else, ever. He was confined to his bed for five months while he waited for it to heal. Everyone dotted on him. They brought him anything he asked, praised him for his bravery, did everything he said. It was driving him crazy. But, on the upside, it gave him plenty of time to think back on what he knew about his rescuer.

Not Mr. O'Shea, no matter how funny he talked, it wasn't the same kind of funny. And _furry_, who was furry? It had him thinking in circles for weeks and made his head spin horribly. Who, who, who?

But he pieced it together after about two months. He was saved from the wolves by none other than the Easter Bunny.

Mary was five when she lost her first tooth. And she was terrified. Of course, it probably didn't help that both her brother and her father teased her about just yanking it out. No matter how much Abigail chastised them when the little girl clung to her skirts in terror, the boys wouldn't stop. By the time the little tooth looked about ready to fall out at the slightest breeze, Mary was too afraid to even touch it.

But within the hour, the tooth pop out at Mary's little nudge. And when she was still so terrified even when it was out, Jack decided to step in. Funny as it was to tease her, he felt bad that it had her so scared.

"Don't you know what this means?" He questioned in a conspiring whisper. When she shook her head, he gave an amazed smile. "Mom and Da never told you? It means a visit from the Tooth Fairy!"

The Tooth Fairy was a fairly new idea that came to their village, but it enchanted the children instantly. As soon as a tooth was lost, the kids would tuck it under their pillows before been. And the following morning there would be a shiny silver piece of eight in place of the tooth. Enthusiasm spread through the village like wild fire and in less than a month, every child believed in the Tooth Fairy.

"I want to see!" Mary insisted for the five millionth time.

"She only comes if you're asleep, Mary."

"I want to see her, Jack!"

Jack groaned in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. Not worth it, he told himself, just find a compromise.

"Tell you what, if I see her, I'll wake you up. Sound good?"

Mary put in a moment of serious thought – and that just erased any annoyance Jack might have managed to hold onto – before nodding and settling under the covers. Jack smile and ran his fingers through her hair, very thick and deep brown now. Little Mary was growing up. Sighing at the thought, Jack walked to his own bed just across form hers and fell into the covers.

He woke to the feel of a small breeze over his face. Stirring awake as he peeked an eye open, Jack saw a flash of bluish green dart across the room. Forcing himself not to bolt up and scare the little thing off, Jack slowly turned to watch it. It struck him as odd; he never woke when he lost his own teeth. It was probably because of his promise to Mary, he decided.

He jolted out of his thoughts as the blur zoomed back to his window. Acting fast, Jack bolted up and cupped the blur gently in his hands. The little thing fluttered in his hands, soft like a butterfly. Keeping his hands firmly closed but gentle as not to hurt the little bird thing, Jack made his way over to Mary.

"Mary, wake up. Look."

The little girl slowly shifted to the waking world. As she little the little lamp at her bed side, and when she saw Jack crouched next to her, her big eyes lit up in joy. She scrambled up on her knees and settled in front of him, peeking at his cupped hands in interest and thrill.

"Is it her? What she look like? Can I see?!"

Jack shushed gently to put an end to the rapid fire questions. Once she was quiet, Jack slowly pushed his hands forward and moved his thumbs apart in a gap big enough for Mary to see. Inside was a mini bird woman that easily fit in the palm of Jack's one hand. She looked like something between a hummingbird and a pretty lady. She was a mix of blues and greens with a beautiful, single golden feather on her forehead just above her eyes. She huddled against Jack's fingers and clutched the little tooth to her chest as she looked up at the two children.

"She's so pretty," Mary whispered. "Can we keep her?"

The little fairy didn't like that and gave a little tweet and peck at Jack's hand to show it. Jack jerked and squeaked at the small pain but kept his hold firm. Then he looked to Mary and shook his head. The little girl sagged and pouted so Jack chewed his lip and pondered over the best way to explain.

"Mary, look at her." He cracked the space between his thumbs again, showing the distressed little bird flittering in his palms. "Does she look very happy?" The little girl studied the tiny fairy and shook her head. "Why do you think that is?" A shrug. "Do you think she has somewhere she wants to be?"

"A home?"

Jack nodded. "Probably with a family missing her, too." Granted he didn't know that for sure, but it was possible. "Would you like it you were kept away from your family: from mom and Da and me?" The girl shook her head frantically, horrified by the idea. "Then is it fair to do that to her?" Another head shake, this one accompanied by misted eyes. "So, what should we do?"

"Let her go home," she answered, looking close to tears.

Jack smiled and placed a kiss on her brow. Such a good girl, his baby sister. Caring so much for the world around her.

"Alright, go open the window for me?"

Mary nodded and shuffled over to Jack's window. Once it was opened, Jack gently climbed onto his mattress and stuck his cupped hands into the cool air. Then he slowly opened his hands and let the little fairy zoom out. The fairy hovered in front of the siblings for a moment, and Mary waved sweetly. The little fairy waved back and zipped away.

The two stood at the window until the cold wind made them shiver and Jack closed the window. The he led his sister back to her bed and tucked her back in.

"That was something, wasn't it?"

Mary nodded and snuggled down. Jack shook her shoulder as she yawned and closed her eyes.

"Hey, we gotta keep this secret," he told her.

"Why?"

"Because this is a special night, just for us. And if everyone else knows…."

"Not special," she finished.

"Exactly. So, promise?" He asked, holding his pinky out.

"Yeah," she agreed, hooking her pinky with his.

She didn't fully understand it; he hadn't either when he was her age. In theory, it sounded like something everyone should know about. But it was important to keep meetings like this, and the Easter Bunny rescue and the Angel Lady that he still remembered clearly from years ago, secret. He still didn't get _why_, but it was very, very important. So he would keep the secret, and he would make sure Mary did too.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

It was just after her seventh birthday that Mary started getting the nightmares. At first no one paid it much mind. Mary became crabby – more so than your normal seven year old – and developed ever growing dark circles under her eyes. But at first the elder members of the house just thought it a drop in mood due to a growth spurt – after all, she had been eating quite a bit lately. Even Jack, who shared the same room, wasn't aware of the problem until she told him. It was the middle of the night when she woke him with the request to sleep in the bed with him. He allowed it with no hesitation, and once she was settled, he asked what was wrong.

"The Boogeyman's under my bed."

The answer chilled him to the bone. He hadn't seen the shadow monster since his meet with the Sandman, but he never forgot him. He never forgot the meets with any of the extraordinary beings he met, no matter how long ago he saw them. And while many of the things he saw were wonderful and beautiful, the thought that the Boogeyman was bothering his sister made his stomach turn. So he let her sleep with him that night and the night following while he tried to form a plan.

Mary was just as stubborn as he was at her age; it was only a matter of time before she tried to avoid sleep altogether, just like he had. So he had to figure out a solution before that happened. When had the Boogeyman left him alone? First after he kept Tiger Hunter in the room with him and then after the Sandman's promise of protection. Both times he felt safe knowing the two were watching over him and hadn't worried about the Boogeyman; so the shadow monster hadn't bothered him again. Because he'd had protectors, he realized. Talismans, lucky charms. Protectors, he thought again as he dropped off into sleep, plan slowly forming in his mind.

The next night, he convinced Mary to sleep in her own bed. At first, the seven year old was very opposed to the idea, pleading to stay with Jack, to not have to sleep all by herself and it broke Jack's heart. He still very clearly remembered being in the same situation, when he was just a little bit younger. Afraid to go to sleep, afraid to even _close_ _your_ _eyes_ because you _knew_ the monster under your bed was just waiting for you to do just that. And when it was him, his mother had just forced him into bed, and it made him all the more afraid because of it. Because it made him alone. And he wouldn't do that to Mary.

"Mary," he whispered, trying to hide the tear-clogged roughness of his voice, "it's going to be alright. You're going to be safe. And you know why?" When she shook her head, Jack gave his now signature grin and was pleased when she smiled back. "Because the Boogeyman wouldn't _dare_ mess with me," he declared, smiling sweetly when she let out a full life. Then he grew serious, holding her shoulders and looking her right in the eyes.

"I'm your brother, Mary. And as long as I'm here, you'll always be safe. I'll protect you." The words echoed what Da had said to him when he was the one shivering on the bed, afraid to go to sleep. And just like with him, Mary was relaxed enough to settle into sleep. Jack sat with her for a moment stroking her hair and watching her sleep before he moved back to his own bed. There he sat perched on the edge, staring intently at the darkness under his sister's bed. He blew out the candle next to his bed and then resumed his staring. And waited.

He stayed awake long through the night, until his eyes felt so heavy he could hardly keep them open. Despite his promise, Jack was on the verge of dosing off when he saw the shadow beneath his sister's bed shift and pool. He was off the bed as soon as he recognized what was happening. There he stood, defensively in front of the sleeping girl, watching the shadow grow into a human-like form.

"Leave my sister alone," he demanded as soon as the Boogeyman took solid form.

The Boogeyman jerked, eyes wide in surprise. Then he smiled sharply and leaned down until they were all but nose to nose. Jack's heart rate jumped up a notch but he kept his glare steady.

"Well, well. I'd thought you'd forgotten me."  
"Stay away from her."

"Now, why would I do that? You won't give me any time, but your sister—"

"You stay away from her!" He snapped, placing himself more firmly between the two. "You're not getting anyway near her."

"Is that a fact?"

"I won't let you."

"Really? And how do you plan to do that?"

"I'll protect her."

The Boogeyman laughed as the boy, just twelve years old, jutted his skinny chest out. The boy was in the middle of a growth spurt of adolescence, his limbs stringy and thin and the rest of him just as lanky. He was hardly threatening as he stood in front of the bed. But he still managed to block him every time he tried to move around the skinny boy and annoyance quickly replaced amusement.

"Move, boy," he ordered sharply.

Jack just shook his head and cross his arms stubbornly. He clenched his jaw and stared the Boogeyman down, fully ready to fight the larger, dark spirit if he so much as _tried_ to get anywhere near his sleeping sister. All his defensive stance got from the Boogeyman was a harsh laugh.

"You think you can stop me? You think you could do anything?"

"Yes." A declaration more than a statement. Strong-minded and determined.

The Boogeyman laughed in disbelief. This boy….to think he could do such a thing. It was laughable as much as it was aggravating.

"You couldn't stand against me," he snarled, looming over the lanky boy. "I could drive you mad in an instant. I am the Boogeyman!"

Jack, surprisingly, wasn't even remotely effected by the display. Even as the shadows whipped around him, Jack felt not even a tremor of fear. Instead, he was just ever more determined to banish the thing from his home. Jaw once again clenched in resolve, Jack marched forward and shoved hard on the Boogeyman's chest. The tall shadow creature stumbled back, looking laughably shocked. Only because laughing would destroy his image of cold strength did Jack resist the temptation.

"You're not welcome here," he growled, actually _advancing_ the monster under the bed and forcing him to stumble back, much to Jack's satisfaction. See how you like to be afraid, he thought viciously. "And I'm not afraid of you. Now get. Out!"

He pushed the man –and he suddenly seemed much more human than a monster worth fearing – back once more with that final snarl. The shadows wrapped around the Boogeyman as he stumbled back and the lifted. And the room was empty but for Jack and his sleeping sister. For a moment, Jack just stood there, muscles still tense and breathing still heavy. Then elation slowly over took the tension and he almost jumped for joy. Running to his bed, he re-lit the candle to fully reveal the empty room.

He did it! He chased away the Boogeyman! And that time he did jump for joy, giving a happy shout before he could stop himself.

"Jack?" Mary asked groggily from her bed, blinking at the bright light.

"Sorry, Mary. Go back to sleep."

The little girl happily obliged before he even finished the sentence. Jack snuffed out the candle and did the same, snuggling into his bed and smiling proudly as he drifted off. He never saw the Boogeyman again.

It seemed that tragedy was to become a leading event in Jack's life. And it would change him forever.

It was mid-summer, just a few weeks after Jack fully banished the Boogeyman –an action he was both very proud of and very upset he couldn't share with his friends – that the Terror Squad set out into the dark woods for their favorite game. Even though Jack's mother had only come up with the nickname as a tease for the boys' rambunctious behavior, they still accepted it with open arms. Having a group name made it all the more fun.

The four moved like a single organism as they jogged through the woods; they had been together so long, it was second nature. The twins and Jack had had play dates since before they could walk, their families had known each other since birth. And when Aidan joined their group at five he'd been accepted instantly, swept into the group with no hesitation. The boys were united under mischief, closer than brothers.

His brothers had all under gone changes recently, Jack noticed. They'd all grown significantly taller and the twins, who's just turned thirteen in the fall, were developing the beginnings of the build of manhood. The two both had a good half a head over Aidan and Jack, and Charlie, the brunette twin, even had the beginnings of facial hair around his lip and chin. The fact rather irked the rest of the boys, especially Chris, who thought it his duty to out-do his brother in everything they did.

In contrast to the bulking change of the twins, Jack and Aidan were in a rather awkward stage of their growth. Both were lanky and thin, with arms and legs that stretched on forever and slim torsos. In fact, they almost looked like twins themselves. However, the fact that they were both still so small was a constant source of torment from the twins. Of course, the fact that Jack and Aidan could outrun the twins without even trying made up for it. Especially in times like this, when the two could sit there waiting at their destination to gloat when the twins arrived long after them.

"'Bout time," Jack joked, earning a glare from his friends.

"Alright, who's going first?" Charlie asked – when he got his breath back, that is.

Just a few feet away from their crouched positions was old man Barnes' little cottage. If the man was reclusive before, he was a full on hermit now. He never came out of his cottage, not even for supplies from the market. The man lived in complete isolation. Which means the Terror Squad just had to go more out of their way to torment him. The boys' all-time favorite game was to snag small trinkets from his porch – be they plants he kept in pots or knives he left or even decayed bits of his house – and retreat with them before he noticed. Or score higher points for when he did notice. It was an ever escalating competition. The best points were earned by getting Barnes' attention and getting him to stick his head out so the others could see his face, throbbing vein and all. No one had managed to do that yet, though.

It was a great game, one they snuck out to play almost every night.

"I went first last time," Jack protested.

"Guys, this isn't a good idea."

"Grow a back bone, O'Shea," Chris snarked.

"Aidan, it's just a bit of fun," Jack threw in.

"It's _mean_," the red-head countered.

Aidan was always the most reluctant of the group to engage in any mischievous endeavors. Level headed and cautious, he often claimed he only went along with the other three to ensure they survived their wild adventures. Like a mother hen.

He claimed the games to be rude, or dangerous, or mean – and yeah, okay, maybe they _were_. But it never stopped him from coming along, and in the end the other three boys always managed to convince him to join in. And he always had fun, no matter how much he griped.

"If you don't want to play, O'Shea, fine. Go home then," Charlie ordered.

Aidan blushed and he thinned his lips in a stubborn display as he settled into the brush. Yeah, that always did the trick, Jack though with a smile.

"Go on, Overland," Chris urged, snapping Jack of his thoughts.

"I went first last time!"

"So what, this was your idea."

"Just go, man," Charlie pressured.

"No way. It's someone else's turn."

Point made, Jack settled stubbornly on the ground. Realizing they weren't going to change his mind, the twins launched into a competitive argument about which one of them was going first. Jack was always the first to dash up to the porch, and it was always his idea to play. So the game was a lot scarier when they weren't following his lead. After several minutes of watching the two shove each other and try to taunt one another into going first, Aidan just rolled his eyes and dashed out of the bush, leaving his friends gaping in amazement. The lanky red-head made away with a half-finished wind chime, with no alarms set off with the old man. He was breathless and laughing excitedly when he crashed down next to them.

"Alright O'Shea! I take the back-bone comment back!" Chris declared, patting the boy on the back. Aidan just laughed and shook his head, getting a better grip on his prize.

"Alright, who's next?" Jack pressed.

The twins exchanged a look a decided to solve the problem of who-went-first by doing it the same way they did everything: at the same time. The two bolted from the bushes and to the cottage in sync, pushing and tripping one another until they both collapsed on the porch. The both grabbed their trinkets –Charlie a hunting knife a Chris a deer antler – when the windows illuminated with candle light. The two barely scrambled to the cover of the bushes when Old Man Barnes stepped out.

He glanced around in an angry squint, his pruned face wrinkling hilariously, before stumbling back inside, shouting that he 'knew they were there, the little shits'. The two boys let out relived breaths and examined their trinkets.

"Way to go, Bennett. Zs," Jack added, angry and annoyed –this last name code-name thing was still new to their Squad. It was still kind of hard to get a handle on—the old man still hadn't turned out the light after the twins woke him. Meaning he was probably sitting in there waiting for one of them to come up so he could snatch them. What he would do after was left to speculation, but it was assured to be very ugly.

"Relax, Overland. All you have to do is snatch something without him getting you and you'll get double the points," Charlie assured.

"But if he does catch you, he'll cook you up in a pot and eat you," Chris added.

The other three boys sent him identical looks of bewilderment and horror. Okay, that was defiantly not on anyone else's list of the things the old man would do if they were caught.

"How much sleep have you been getting?" His brother question and Chris just shrugged.

"Not saying there's much to cook."

"Oh, here we go."

"Well, either way, good luck Overland," Charlie interrupted before they could dissolve into an argument.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Will you shut up and try to have a little fun, O'Shea?"

Jack looked at the cottage hesitantly before sighing and moving up into a crouched position. He sent the twins a mock serious look.

"If I die, I'm coming back to haunt you two," he promised before jumping up and racing to the cottage.

He wasn't half way up the porch when the door was flung open, Mr. Barnes standing in the light. Rifle in hand and aimed at Jack. The boy's legs gave out in surprise and he scrambled away on his belly off the porch. He bolted back up to run when he heard the loud crack of a gun- shot, realizing numbly the Mr. Barnes had tried to shoot him. He looked up to where the others urged him on from the bushes and bolted over as the old man attempted to reload his rifle. They withdrew into the trees, ignoring the old man's angry demands for them to come back so he could give them all a proper whooping.

When they were out of sight of the cottage Jack all but collapsed in relief, trembling and breathing hard. That was _not_ how the evening was supposed to go, he thought in a numb bitterness. Only when the trembling of his limbs receded with the rush of adrenaline – giving the situation a much more pleasing spin in the haze it brought – did Jack realize he was very alone. The four boys had scattered when they reached the trees, splitting up as they scrambled away. And none of the others were in sight. Keeping a lid on his panic, Jack crept slowly back the way he came.

They couldn't have gone too far, right? They had to be near-by, he assured himself. Because the idea of being in these dark woods alone was far too frightening to consider. They were close, they were close, he repeated to himself in a mantra. They were close. He only resisted calling for them out of fear that something else would hear him. And he knew from experience that there were dangerous things lurking in the shadows.

Then, to his immense relief, he saw Aidan. Seeing the other boy huddled against the tree—vibrant red hair all but glowing in the dark just like the first time they met – chased away all the unease and dread that had wedged itself in his chest. Not to say it wasn't replaced by a similar cold; after all, Aidan was near terrified. Where were the others? Were they alright? How would he get home? The swirling thoughts gave him nausea. But it was overshadowed by the relief of seeing his friend unharmed. And the seed of mischief that wiggled into his mind. Aidan hadn't registered his presence, too focused on the darkness ahead of him. It was almost too easy.

Biting his lip to prevent any giggling, Jack crept up behind his friend and heavily smacked him on the shoulder, yelling 'Hi Aidan!'. The high pitched shriek the other boy let out had Jack doubling over in laughter. Oh, that was too good! He smiled cheekily when Aidan turned to him with an icy glare.

"Is there a little girl out here who needs help?"

Jack smiled and Aidan rolled his eyes as the twins joined them. Matching pairs of deep brown eyes twinkled in amusement as they zeroed in on the redhead.

"It wasn' that bad," Aidan muttered in objection, the tips of his ears burning. Like always when he was upset or embarrassed, Aidan's accent thickened until it was almost impossible to understand him. And like always, the twins prepared to pounce on him for it.

"I can't believe the old man tried to shoot us." Jack moved first and the twins gave nervous laughs as they agreed with the point.

"Well, you do have an uncanny ability to annoy people," Chris said with a laugh.

"Me?!"

"You're the one he shot at."

"Only because you two were crashing around like bears!"

"Don't try to pin this on _us_!" Charlie defended, still laughing.

"Then don't blame _me_!"

"Guys, that was crazy dangerous."

"And the mood killer strikes again," Chris muttered, shifting away from his shoving fest between his twin and Jack.

"I'm serious."

"You're always serious, O'Shea."

"Chris, we could have been killed! I don't think we should bother Mister Barnes so much."

"And I think we should work on getting that stick out of your—"

"Come on, you had to have had a _little_ bit of fun," Jack interrupted.

Aidan shuffled in discomfort when all eyes zoomed to him and licked his lips in a nervous gesture. There was no point in lying; they would all know. So he sighed and rubbed is arm as the blush returned full force.

"I've never felt so alive." The confession was barely above a whisper, but the other boy's still heard it.

They broke into shouts, patting Aidan roughly on the back and giving him one armed hugs. Aidan smiled and the attention and returned the gestures. As much as they bothered him and tormented him, they loved him, and he loved them back. And really, what were brothers for?

Jack smiled and gave Aidan a friendly hit to the shoulder before glancing up at the sky. Dawn was fast approaching. Time to break up the love and head home, he decided.

"Alright, we've got to go home before we're skinned for being out this late," he informed them.

There was no arguing that. So they headed back to the village with no protest, declaring Jack the winner of that night's game for drawing the old man out, even though they'd all lost their trinkets in their mad dash to get away. They were admittedly anything but quiet as they moved, shoving one another and laughing and launching into mock arguments; it was all good fun. But, as Jack noted before, the noise drew attention from within the trees.

Jack felt it coming. The wind shifted to announce the presence of the threat, and Jack turned just in time to get a glimpse of it. And he forced the others to the ground just as the man concealed in the brush let the arrow fly, imbedding it in the bark of a tree behind them. They all lay in stunned shock for a beat before scrambling for cover. Once out of the line of fire, the real danger of the situation hit them.

"What do we do?" Charlie asked.

Jack bit his lip and tried to think past all the terror buzzing through the air. This was bad. There hadn't been an attack on their town in seven years and the tribes surrounding them had been relatively peaceful. No one wanted to bring that to an end now. And there in lay the problem: how did they get back to their home without drawing the violent Native, and likely his entire tribe, back with them. Jack took a focusing breath and met Charlie's gaze.

"Alright, here's what we do," he began. "You and Chris get back to the village, get help out here. Me and Aidan will distract him while you go."

"We will?"

While the twins were more than willing to follow Jack's lead on this, Aidan wasn't so confident. The fact that Jack's plan involved him _staying_ there had him very nervous.

"Yeah. Don't worry, we're experts at this."

"We are?"

"Uh, yeah," Jack repeated, tone implying it should have been obvious. It really was, and Aidan's eyes quickly lit with realization and then disbelief.

"That was one time and we were _four_."

"Five."

"Whatever!"

The other boys insistently shushed him as his cry rang out in the quiet night. The crunch of leaves under feet marked the man's approach as he came closer, and Jack pinned the twins under his gaze. The two snapped to attention, ready for command. The smaller boy motioned for them to wait and studied the rocks around them until he found one about the size of his hand. He turned it over gently before chucking it to his right. It made a loud 'thunk' and, just as Jack hoped, the footsteps moved off to follow it.

"Go," he ordered. Then he turned to Aidan and placed on hand on his shoulder as the twins darted off. "Go with them, Aidan. It'll be alright," he promised.

Then he slipped on his belly, slowly pulling himself along the ground for a better look at the man's position. He was investigating the bush in which the rock had landed, poking at it. If he was quiet, the man would probably move off once he didn't find anyone. Or, at least, he really hoped so. A small tap on his shoulder nearly had him jumping out his skin, barely holding in a scream. He whirled around, and let out a sigh of relief when his eyes met Aidan's. Then his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, keeping his voice at a hushed whisper.

"I'm here to help. I'm with you, _dheartháir_."

Jack felt his heart soften at the endearment. Even though they'd been away from their native land for nearly a decade, both Aidan and Mr. O'Shea slipped into Gaelic when using such terms for loved ones. As they both often swapped languages when talking to Jack, he'd had Aidan explain the ones they used most often as well as a handful of other terms. This one meant 'brother'.

"Alright. Ok, you, move over there," he decided, motioning to the large tree opposite to them. "Hide there and watch him, but don't let him see you. The best thing we can do is make him think that we left. Hopefully he'll move off after that."

Aidan nodded and studied the distance. Not a lot of cover there and it sent him right past where the man was searching. The idea made him uneasy. Jack gave his hand a squeeze for reassurance, just like he had when they were kids. Both a comfort and a promise that they would make it out this time as well.

"Be brave," he encouraged.

"Be _safe_," Aidan countered, but he smiled shakily and moved off.

Jack watched him go, his heart pounding. If the man looked just an _inch_ to his right….. He shook the thought away. No point in thinking like that, he told himself, it wouldn't happen. But still, Jack was afraid as he watched his friend move further and further away from his reach, and his help. Aidan was within reach of the tree when the man cocked his head ever-so-slightly. Jack's heart froze. He'd seen Aidan, or something had tipped him off to the boy's presence. Either way, Jack knew in his get that the man knew Aidan was there.

He didn't think. On the edge of hyperventilating, Jack simply snatched the closest thing that would fit in his hand and threw it, no target in mind. It ended up striking the man in the back of the head and he whipped around, eyes now focused on Jack's hiding spot. Mission complete, though not as he'd planned and putting _his_ life in danger now, Jack slid down onto his belly and forced himself to remain still and quiet. The man came ever closer and Jack's heart pounded. Don't find me, he pleaded. Don't find me.

Everything happened very fast. The man came so close Jack could make out the pattern of his shoes, could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of his life radiating over him. Then he heard Aidan scream his name from behind the man. He had only an instant – half a second, really –to feel overwhelming dread and fear for the other boy before the man turned on his heels, too quickly not to have known where Aidan was, and let his arrow fly. Even if he couldn't see it Jack recognized it by the sound. And there was only one place it would've gone.

"NO!" It was half scream and half sob as Jack rushed to his feet.

Jack pushed the man aside as he darted past him; with his back to Jack, it was easy to knock the man off balance. He may have felt some small satisfaction at hearing the man hit the ground, but other than that, Jack paid him no mind once he was out of the way and he rushed to his fallen friend.

Aidan was crumpled on the ground, gasping as he lay on his back. The arrow protruding from his chest. Jack's heart trembled, all air left his lungs and his knees could no long hold him. He blinked back tears while he studied Aidan's chest, the blood seeping from destroyed skin. Jack's stomach churned. His arm was halfway out, reaching for his friend – to do what exactly, he wasn't sure – when he heard the man climb to his feet. Jack turned to glare at him, snarling as he too rose to his feet. The man – almost naked, like the last man, but not so silly anymore – was speaking, and _smiling_, like his friend bleeding and gasping for breath on the ground was something to be _proud_ of. The rolled over Jack's ears and he couldn't understand them; but the anger and rage drove the familiar spikes through Jack's mind. And with that connection came the words.

_You will pay for the wrongs inflicted upon us. Blood for blood._

Jack couldn't pretend to understand what that meant, or how he could suddenly hear the words in clear English. But one thing was clear, and it made him forget everything else; all the pain and the confusion and the fear no longer mattered with the one realization. The man had done this on purpose. He'd shot Aidan on purpose.

Jack's own cold rage forced the crippling spikes of anger from the man out of his mind. In their place was a deep pressure in the center of his forehead, cold and deadly. That and the anger became his whole world, blocking out everything else. Somewhere in the distance, he felt the wind whip around him to match his fury.

He wasn't normally a violent person; his Da had taught him that violence was the path of the idiot. And he always thought that violence in retribution was inexcusable, no matter what. Violence in protection? Maybe, but retribution was an idiot _coward's_ way by Jack's thinking. But right now, none of that mattered. This man had hurt his friend. For whatever reason he thought justified it, this man had hurt Aidan; his friend, his brother. And Jack wanted him to pay for it. To bleed, to _burn_ for it. He wasn't sure what inspire him to do so, but he let that thought mix with the force at the center of his head, let it give the pressure direction. Then he closed his eyes, and pushed the force forward and out of his head. And toward the man.

The action left him lightheaded and swaying on his feet, somewhat giddy. His vision darkened, and he could hear someone screaming somewhere beyond his senses. By the time his eyes cleared, the screaming had stopped and he glanced around, mildly confused.

The man was curled in a ball at Jack's feet – when had Jack moved forward? – eyes blank and mouth gaping, opening and closing, forming what might have been silent words. Or maybe he was just trying to breathe. Jack should have felt something: fear, confusion, disgust, anything. But all he felt was numb and he stepped over the man without a thought, over to Aidan.

"Remind me, not to cross you," Aidan managed to gasp out as Jack knelt next to him. Jack sent a glance back to the man – tried not to think that he was somehow the cause of, of _that_ – and looked back to his friend. The numbness vanished and his heart twisted in shock and he chocked.

"Should I, should I take it out?" He managed to asked, holding a shaking hand over the arrow.

Aidan shook his head, swallowing wetly. Jack's heart took another plummet at the sight of blood on his friend's – _brother's_ – lips.

"Make it worse."

"Aidan I don't, I don't know what to do." He was crying now and he hated the fact. But his brother was hurt – _dying_—and he didn't know what to do. And that frightened him. "I don't know what to do."

Talking proved too much a task to keep up and Aidan wordlessly pulled Jack's arm around his shoulder. Message received, Jack gathered the other boy in his arms and tucked the crop of red hair under his chin. All he could think to do was hold the other boy; so that's what he did. Hold him and keep him talking, that was what he had to do.

"Aidan I, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he wailed, rocking gently.

"No. No, not you're, you're fault.

"Yes, yes it is. I brought you out here, I wanted you to stay. I let him see you. It's all my fault!"

"No."

A crack of a branch to the left stopped Jack's rebuttal. He clutched Aidan to his chest, hunched protectively over the other boy. Instead of a threat, his gaze met Mr. Barnes and Jack's heart leapt. An adult! There was hope.

"Help!" He shouted as if to draw attention, even though the man was staring right at him. "Help us, please. Go get help, do something, help!"

The old man moved off, and Jack let out a heavy sigh. It was going to be alright. He would bring back help, maybe help them himself. It was going to be alright

"Aidan." His relief evaporated. Aidan was boneless in his arms, his pallor whiter than normal, eyes lidded. His breath slowed and Jack felt his heart fall to his stomach as he frantically shook the other boy. "Aidan, Aidan! No, nononono, you need to stay awake. Help's on the way just stay awake Aidan!" He couldn't stop it. Aidan grew weaker and his breathing grew dimmer.

Aidan's gave met Jack's.

"Jack, _mo dheartháir_." And Aidan was gone. Limp in his arms and still. And gone.

It happened so fast that for a moment Jack could only stare in disbelief, eyes wide and horrified. Then the truth of it sunk in and he wailed, gathered Aidan close and rocked. And screamed his agony to the world until his throat was numb.

They weren't found until sunrise, and Jack stayed with him. All through the night.

Jack was numbed by shock when the sun lit the sky. His arms were stiff and his legs deadened from kneeling. But he felt nothing. He just sat there, cradling his dead brother and staring off into the distance. It was silent for a long time: the man had stopped making any kind of noise a long time ago and the forest itself seemed to be mourning. So when he heard the crunch of approaching footsteps it immediately had him on edge and feeling more alive than he had in hours. He clutched Aidan close to him, reaching around for any kind of weapon. When his fingers closed around a large rock he held it up defensively, eying the figures advancing them. He couldn't recognize them; they were shadowed and blurred, rippling like they were wrapped in water.

Someone gave a scream – was it him?—and Aidan was torn from his arms before he could react. He snarled and lunged forward, determine to take back his brother. Because if Aidan wasn't in his arms, he couldn't protect him. And if he couldn't protect him…. But his arms were restrained before he got too far. He thrashed and he snarled, gnashed his teeth, screamed. He didn't know if he was screaming words or profanities or if he was just snarling like an animal. And it didn't matter. It didn't matter that he could hear people screaming his name past the ringing in his ears. It didn't matter that his arms were protesting the strain and aching horribly. Only getting to Aidan mattered.

"Jack, lad."

That voice, even though it was hardly a whisper and rough with tears and thick with a foreign accent, broke through his haze. He blinked away the tears blurring his vision, turning everything watery, and focused on the voice. The figure holding Aidan. The man – Mr. O'Shea, Jack finally realized – looked as if he'd peeked up from having his face buried in his son's hair during the commotion. His bright eyes were bloodshot with tears when they met Jack's, his face devastated. Jack felt his own face crumple and sobs shook his frame from where they were trapped in his chest.

"I, I." His throat closed as he tried to speak, to apologize comfort, _anything_.

Mr. O'Shea smiled kindly, a sharp contrast to his shattered face, making him seem all the more devastated. "Take him home," he ordered softly, hiding his face back in Aidan's hair.

Jack kept his eyes on them as he was half led and half dragged away. Mr. O'Shea's shoulders jerked and shook as his sobs overtook him. Aidan was all he had, Jack realized with a start having never given it much though, and the boy had just been torn away from him. Jack's own tears burned in his eyes but didn't fall, by some force of his will or a block to protect his sanity, he didn't know. The burning persisted as he was led to town, where the villagers mulled around, only looking up at his arrival. He didn't know how he looked, but judging by the shocked expressions, he must have been a mess.

When they came to his home, the first thing Jack thought of was how much trouble he was in. Staying out until dawn when he should have been in bed; his parents were going to tear him a new one for this. The thought had him grinding to a halt before they made it to his threshold. But Jack was too exhausted to put up a proper struggle, so he was pulled inside with no trouble. Inside, his mother, Mary, Charlie and Chris all huddled around the table. One of the men holding his arm cleared his throat to draw their attention.

The twins were the first to jump up and rush to him. They'd been crying, Jack noticed. Crying because they were worried. The thought made his eyes burn even more.

"Are you alright?"

"We thought you were dead!"

"It took them so long to find you, we thought it was too late."

"Where's, where's Aidan?"

Jack had no answers, especially that one, from Charlie. He just stared at them, gaping, eyes misted, heart in knots. It must have been answer enough, because the twins shook their heads in denial, pain shining in their eyes.

"Kids, why don't you go home," Abigail suggested with a deceptively calm voice, climbing to her feet.

"Where's Aidan?" Chris demanded, tears heavy in his voice.

"Come on boys, let's get you home," the men in the door way suggested, pulling the twins along even as they protested, Chris crying for Aidan's location in his denial.

Jack just stood in place, rooted to the ground. Charlie looked like he wanted to touch Jack's shoulder as he passed, but was afraid the other boy would shatter if he did. Jack wondered if he was right. His mind was jumbled, his emotions clouded. All he could do for certain was stand there. And stare dead ahead.

"Mary, why don't you go to your room?" Abigail moved into Jack's line of sight, and he locked onto her face.

Focusing on small details help banish the fog over his mind. Her face was angular yet soft; tanned and full. Her pretty hazel green eyes shone with worry and pain that she was trying to hide from her children, her short brown hair was messy from where she'd pulled at it in a nervous habit. She always did that when she had something on her mind.

"Is Jack okay?" The sound of Mary scared voice had Jack shaking to contain his tears because he would not cry in front of his little sister. He was supposed to be her protector and he couldn't be strong enough to do that if he broke down in front of her.

"He'll be fine, baby. Just go on, let me talk to him by myself."

Mary nodded and dashed to her room, unnerved by the long night with Jack gone only to have him come back like some kind of walking dead man, leaving her mother and brother alone. For a moment the two stood in silence. Then Abigail moved forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Jack," she began.

"Where's Da?" Jack interrupted, finally able to speak. William wasn't in the room, and Jack needed him; he needed to know what to do.

"Honey."

"Where's Da? I need Da, where's Da?!" Jack's voice jumped up an octave and trembled. The tears finally slip down his cheeks and he sobbed, everything hitting him all at once, making him dizzy.

"It's alright, Honey."

"I need Da. Mommy, I need Da." His knees and he pitched forward, sobbing into his mother's chest as she lowered them to their knees. "Mommy," he sobbed again, clinging to her like the world would come apart if he let go.

"It's alright, baby. Everything's going to be alright," she soothed while Jack sobbed.

They sat there for hours, until Jack wept himself to exhaustion, and finally fell asleep.

It was snowing outside his window. The first snow of the season and for once, Jack felt none of his usual joy. He hadn't for a while now, not since….The Night. Jack sighed and curled up on his bed, never taking his eyes off the window. He stroked Tiger Hunter half mindedly as he stared. The dog was well past his prime, and as such he no longer went into the field. In fact he hardly left the house. Tiger Hunter was perfectly content to just lie around the house, ideally next to his master, especially now that the boy was so lost. And Jack was happy with the dog's constant company. It offered the best comfort Jack was going to get.

A knock at the door made him jump, but he chose to ignore it in favor of the window, and the snow outside.

"Jack?" Mary. Jack sighed and turned to face her. The little girl stood just outside their door sheepishly, holding a tray of steaming food.

"I brought you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry, little lady."

"But you need to eat; winter's starting."

"I'm not hungry, Mary," he repeated more firmly.

Nonetheless Mary placed the tray on his bed and climb up next to him. He smiled and ran a hand through a strand of her hair. She snuggled into his side with a smile, giving up on the food in favor of avoiding another fight.

Jack frowned at that. Yes he'd been a bit snippy since The Night, but he hadn't snapped at them _that_ much. Had he?

"Da's here. He wants to talk to you," she informed him, breaking him away from his thoughts

That made him scowl. Now that was someone he had been snapping at as much as possible. And for good reason. Da had been away for nearly a year this time around. He'd come home just in time for Aidan's funeral, Jack thought angrily, at the end of fall when he'd left the previous spring.

"I don't want talk to _him_," Jack retorted.

"But Jack—"

"I don't want to talk to him, Mary!"

Mary recoiled and stared at him wide eyed. Jack stared back, just as shocked. Where had that come from? He never yelled at her. Giving a sigh, Jack picked up the tray of food, both to try and make up for his attitude and because he attributed said attitude to the fact that he was hungry and just choosing to ignore it.

"Look, I don't really want to talk to anyone right now. I'm tired and a bit crabby."

Mary nodded in understanding, happy to have finally got him eating. She watched him for another couple of minutes, then kissed his cheek and bounced out. Jack watched her go with a smile before forcing himself to finish the meal. He was hungry and he did need to eat; he just didn't want food. He didn't want to do much of anything but sit and feel sad. It was stupid and he knew Aidan wouldn't approve but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

He'd just finished the food, happy he'd decided to for having his belly pleasantly full, and was thinking about climbing into bed when the door opened again. Jack looked up, expecting Mary, and froze when he saw William instead. Then he scowled and climbed into bed, burrowing under the covers, hoping his father would get the idea. And when he felt his bed dip down, Jack figured he hadn't.

"Jack, what's been going on?" He began. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Jack hadn't spoken to his father since the man had shown up in the middle of Aidan's funeral. And he didn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"Jack, look, I understand that you're upset. What happened to Aidan it, it was awful. And I wish, I wish I was here—"

"Get out," Jack ordered softly, shaking in anger.

"Jack?"

"Get out!" He shouted it this time, sitting up to look William in the face as he did so. "You weren't there, you're never there!"

"Jack—"

"Get out! Get out, _get out_!"

Jack flopped down, hiding his face under the covers. William sat at his side in stunned silence for a moment before heeding the demand and leaving. Satisfied, Jack snuggled under the covers and went to sleep.

He woke some time later to the door was again opening. He groaned and rubbed his eye in agitation, glancing at the window with bleary eyes. He guessed it to be the very beginning of evening; he'd fallen asleep at mid-day. But he still didn't want to get up just yet. So he flopped over to his other side, totally ignoring whoever was at the door.

"I said I didn't want to talk to anyone," he snapped, figuring the visitor to be either Mary or William.

"Well, I assume this is that teenage sullenness I've heard about. You just turned thirteen the other day, right lad?"

Jack bolted upright when he recognized the voice. Mr. O'Shea leaned against the frame of his door, eyes amused over their underlying sadness. Jack felt a pang through his heart. This was the first time they'd seen each other since The Night, in the woods. He'd lost weight since then, Jack noticed. There were deep shadows under his eyes, so he obviously hadn't been sleeping well. His posture was slumped with the burden of grief, his face perpetually sad.

"I, yeah," Jack managed to answer, finding it hard to speak to the man, as he had since The Night. "How are you?"

"Managing."

The two lapsed into silence, either staring at each other or glancing around the room. Jack wrung his hands nervously, making a full effort to avoid the adult's gaze.

"I haven't seen you out, lately."

"It's winter."

"Never seen that stop you before."

Jack just shrugged. He kept his head down, even when Mr. O'Shea sat down next to him.

"I thought this might happen," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Jack, I'm leaving, come spring." At that, Jack finally looked up, disturbed and upset by the news. "I came here to make a better life for my Aidan. Now there's no reason for me to stay." It hurt too much to stay, is what he meant. "But before I go, I think it's my job to deliver this message on Aidan's behalf."

Jack's brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the comment. Message from Aidan? What? Any other thought on the subject was jarringly interrupted by a swift hit to the side of the head. Not painful, but very surprising. He sent Mr. O'Shea a shocked look, more confused than insulted or betrayed. The man held his gaze firmly.

"Get off yer mopin' English arse and get over yerself!"

Jack blinked dumbly for a second before he broke down into belly shaking laughter. Aidan wouldn't have said _that_, exactly, but something on the same plane was totally something he would do. Especially after Jack had done something particularly stupid. Mr. O'Shea joined in on the laughter and after so long under the dark cloud of depression, neither of them couldn't stop for a moment. They were both breathless by the time they tapered off into giggles and finally reigned those in as well. They slipped back into silence; Mr. O'Shea was the first to break it.

"Aidan wouldn't want you to stop living yer life because he's gone. He'd be right pissed, lad."

"I know. It's just hard."

"I understand lad. I imagine it will be for quite some time. But we have to be strong. And it will be easier if you don't push away those close to you." Mr. O'Shea took both of Jack's hands, drawing his gaze, angry scowl and all. "Jack, I know you want someone to blame. I do too. But you have to understand; this is no one's fault. Not yours, not anyone's. It was a tragedy, but it's no one's fault," he repeated.

Jack sighed and took his hands back, tucking them to his chest. It wasn't that Jack wanted someone to blame; he knew that it was just a horrible tragedy. He didn't know why he was so angry, but it wasn't because he was blaming anyone. He just _was_. Mr. O'Shea let out what sounded like a disappointed breath as he rose to his feet.

"Just think about it," he urged, ruffling Jack's hair as he left the room.

He left at the beginning of spring, just as he said. Jack never saw him again.

Jack's mood darkened more and more by the day. He would avoid sleep because he saw Aidan when he was asleep. He didn't eat because the dreams took his appetite. He became quick to anger, paranoid, easily upset. It came to the point that his parents feared for his sanity. All the while, Jack's attitude toward his father grew steadily worse. When he wasn't completely ignoring William he was snapping at the man at every word or gesture.

It was only when spring came around that his anger shifted. It never occurred to him, mainly because he refused to think about The Night, but he never remembered seeing or hearing about Mr. Barnes when he was taken back to the village. So the wheels were already turning by the time he decided question anything. He just needed to confirm it.

"Mom, did the twins tell you where we, where I was, or was it Mr. Barnes?" He asked over dinner.

It was the most civilized comment he'd made in nearly a month. So it took a moment to get over the sudden change and actually answer.

"Jack, Mr. Barnes hasn't come down from his cottage in years. You know that."

Jack did know that. And now he needed to deal with it. He pushed away from the table without another word. Stalking over to the door with a dark frown.

"Where are you going?"

"To spend time with the twins." A viable answer; they hadn't spent any time together since The Night.

"You should stay for dinner," William objected.

"Not hungry."

William caught Jack's arm before he made it out the door, turning the boy to face him.

"You should stay," he repeated.

"I want to see my friends."

"You need to spend time with your _family_."

"You never do. And I shouldn't take advice from hypocrites."

He received a slap for that. It wasn't very hard, just enough to get the point across and it wasn't the first time Jack's parents had done so. However, it was rare; William and Abigail were very lenient on their punishments. It made the slap sting more than it normally would have.

William sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jack, please. We're all going through difficult times. Don't make it any harder."

Jack glowered up at him and yanked his arm free, bolting away before William could grabbed it back. He ignored his parents' calls for him and made his way through town. He found the twins in little time; they were mulling about just outside their house, just as he thought they would be.

"Hey, look at you; out and about," Chris called when he caught sight of the other boy.

Jack nodded as he came to them, genuinely happy to see the two. But now was time for business, not pleasantries. He made his way up to them, eyes serious.

"You guys want to play the game?"

The twins followed him with some hesitation. Jack suppose he may have been acting some-what insane, and that he was frightening them. But he couldn't spare much thought for feeling bad about scaring his friends. He was on a mission.

They came to the cottage with practiced ease, crouching the bushes a few feet away. It looked deserted. That didn't matter, Jack assured himself. This would work with or without the old man actually inside. He looked to the twins, who were both shivering in the cold post-winter air, and smiled in what was supposed to be reassurance. It came out as more of a terrifying grin.

"Who wants to go first?"

The twins exchanged uneasy glances. Then Charlie grimaced as he met Jack's gaze.

"Jack, I don't think we should do this."

"What?"

"It just, it doesn't feel right. Not without…."

Jack scowled and looked to Chris, usually his biggest supporter in their games, who'd been oddly quiet. The blonde twin avoided Jack's stare, head bowed.

"You two want to stop? Stop our favorite game?"

The two ducked their heads, hunching in on themselves under Jack's heavy glare. Jack felt his heart sink the longer they stayed quiet, until anger and anxiety swirled wildly in his chest.

"It's not the same without Aidan," Chris finally whispered.

Jack's stomach soured at the name. His heart rate sped and he tried to force down the dread pooling in his gut – they weren't with him on this they were going to abandon him – and replace it fully with anger. Jack sent them a glare and bolted out of the bushes, running right to the cottage.

He plucked rocks from the ground as he ran, throwing them ahead, taking out windows and other fragile nick-knacks lining the porch. When he ran out of rocks upon reaching the porch, he switched to his hands. Throwing the damaged pots and anything else within reach, he laid waste to everything in his path until his hands bled. And even then, he kept going. And all the while the only thing he could see was Mr. Barnes, standing there in the trees as Jack cradled Aidan's dying body. And how the old man had just turned away – something that had made Jack feel _relieved_, made him let his guard down – and leave. Probably just heading home as he abandoned the two boys in the woods.

He was screaming like mad by the time the twins ran up to drag him away, and his vision was blurred by the tears rolling down his cheeks. When had he started crying?

"Jack, what are you doing?" Charlie demanded, giving the other brunette a rough shake by the shoulders.

"He let it happen!"

"What?"

"He was there! He watched us he just walked away. And I begged him! I begged him to help us and he just left us there; he let Aidan die! And now he has to pay for it."

Jack alternated between sobbing and growling through his explanation, tears streaming all the while. Charlie tightened his grip as Jack tried to lunge back up and pulled the smaller teen close, partially restraining him and partially comforting as he pulled Jack into a hug. The smaller boy jerked and struggled before collapsing in his friend's arms, clinging to him as he sobbed anew. This is ridiculous, he chastised himself. Breaking down like this every time he talked about, or even thought about….Aidan. The night Aidan died.

After that it didn't matter how pathetic it made him feel; he broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"I couldn't help him. He was in my arms and I couldn't help him. I let him die."

"Don't say things like that." Charlie tightened his grip as he spoke, his voice just as thick as Jack's.

"We all miss him," Chris added, kneeling down beside the two boys as he placed a hand on Jack's shaking shoulder. "We miss him so much; the Terror Squad will never be the same again." That got matching watery laughs from the two brunettes. "So don't you leave too. Don't you leave us, Jack," he added, serious once more.

"I won't. I won't," he repeated, drawing the other twin into the hug.

They sat there for some time, holding one another tight until the tears were spent and the pain lessened, if only a little. When they finally broke apart, not a one of the three pairs of brown eyes were dry – though the boys still hid their faces as they wiped the dampness away.

"We should get out of here before Old Man Barnes has our heads," Charlie announced, rising to his feet.

"Yeah. I went a little overboard, didn't I?"

"A little?" Chris repeated, motioning to the demolished cottage. "You totally went overboard, Overland."

Jack laughed and climbed to his feet to follow the other two boys. He felt better, for the first time since The Ni— since Aidan's death, he reminded himself, swallowing down the pain in that thought. He was going to deal with this differently, from now on, he vowed. Maybe not better, but different. It was time for things to change.

He glanced back at the cottage as he made it through the first line of trees, hoping to use it has more reinforcement for change. Instead, his blood froze. For standing at the base of the steps leading to the porch, face red and livid as she stared into the trees, was Mr. Barnes.

Jack raced deeper through the trees, hoping the man hadn't seen him.

The Overland siblings made their way from the school house back to their home. It was the end of Mary's first day of school – a daunting task, as it was the first step out of childhood. Jack knew the feeling well, and was by her side the whole day. And for that, Mary was grateful. And, more importantly, it was a sign that her brother was back!

Jack had been considerably more like his old self in the last week. He was more out-going, happier, easier on their parents, he'd even taken up spending time with the younger village children again – much to the joy of said children. Just yesterday, he'd riveted them with a fire side story, using a pair of deer antlers to illustrate his story that had them laughing uncontrollably. It was the first time he'd done anything like it since he came back from the woods.

Even though he still slipped into his darker moods, they were less often, and the house gave a collective sigh of relief at the change.

Jack brought Mary out of her thoughts with a snowball to the back of the head. Even though it was the tail end of winter, there was still plenty of snow still on the ground. And Mary had plenty of ammunition to return fire.

The two played for hours, until Mary's cheeks were rosy and her nose red from the cold, and Jack decided it was time to head home. They were within sight of their little house when Mr. Barnes stepped out of the trees and blocked their path. Jack pushed Mary behind him, watching the adult warily. He had no real reason to think the old man was violent, but his sudden appearance made Jack jittery. As did the dark, heavy air the man brought with him.

"Can we help you?" He asked when Barnes just stood there watching them.

"I wish to discuss the destruction of my property."

Oh. Jack relaxed ever so slightly, moving out of his fight-or-flee crouch. The man was here because he was upset about what Jack did to his house. Understandably so, Jack admitted, and it explained the dark cloud hovering over the man.

"Yeah," he began. "Look I'm sorry about that. I'll, I'll help with repairs or work it off, if you like."

"That is something to discuss." Barnes stayed firmly in their path.

"Mary, why don't you go to the house," Jack suggested, urging the girl along.

He hadn't discussed what he'd done prior to his attitude change with his family just yet. Probably something that would have to change, he admitted. But still, he wanted his sister inside before she got too cold. And before they got to the ugly details.

The old man blocked her as Mary tried to inch past him.

"She stays," he snapped.

Jack drew his sister back to his side, his body tense in preparation for a conflict. He glared the elder down, eyes flashing.

"This isn't her problem. I apologized; I meant it. My actions were unacceptable and I want to make up for them." He kept his voice calm and steady, never breaking eye contact. Showing anger of fear would only make things worse, he reminded himself.

"They were," Barnes agreed. "But this is a problem at the root, and the fruit is equally rotted."

That didn't make much sense, but Jack didn't have time to puzzle through it as Barnes lunged at them. The teen avoided, pulling Mary along with him. Okay, bad. Bad, bad, bad. He didn't think that taking his anger out on Barnes' house would make the old hermit _that_ mad. If he had, he'd have really rethought that plan.

He could figure it out later, he decided. Right now, he needed to get his sister out of here. Easier said than done, unfortunately: Barnes blocked their every attempt to move past him. They zipped to the right, he followed them. They bolted left, he was already there, reaching for them. And he was too big for Jack to rush him. At least while he had Mary with him.

So he let go of her hand and dashed forward. Jack collided with Barnes' midsection, actually knocking the larger man over. He kept the old man's flailing arms busy as he called over to Mary.

"Go! Get Da!"

He didn't have the chance to see if the seven year old actually did as she was told. One of Barnes' waving arms met his cheek in an explosion of pain, knocking him on his side. He groaned and clutched his aching cheek, only uncurling from his pained balled position when he saw Barnes making his way toward Jack's house. After Mary, he realized, jumping to his feet. His head swam from the blow but he forced himself forward until he closed the distance between them. Then he launched onto the man's back, wrapping his arms tightly around Barnes' neck.

Barnes chocked and tried to throw the boy off. He twisted and flailed, completely forgetting about Mary. Who, Jack noted in pleasure, was almost to the house. Barnes must have noticed to, as he doubled his efforts to shake Jack off until the teen went flying. Jack saw stars when he hit the ground and his vision swam and then darkened as he blacked out.

He woke to a splitting headache and groaned, gently prodding at the abused area. No blood but defiantly bruised; yeah, that was going to hurt for a while. He let out another pained groaned and pushed himself up. The glow from a blazing fire to his left was the only thing lighting the room and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust before he could see anything. The sight of Barnes crouched in front of him was the first thing he clearly saw and had him scrambling to the opposite wall. Not good, oh not good.

Barnes only stared at him for a moment before he stood and walked to the fire.

"Spare the rod, spoil the child," he muttered. Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. What was the old man babbling about now? "It seems people have forgotten that; forgotten how children should be treated. Seen, not heard."

Tuning out the rest of that speech as Barnes rambled on, Jack scanned the room for a way out. The cottage wasn't how Jack would have picture Barnes living. Aside from the darkness from the veiled windows, it was almost cozy. Warm and neat; no signs of any evils of a dangerous recluse or heads of his victims mounted on his wall – a rumor that Chris spread around the village, thank you Chris – just a few pelt from hunted animals. Nothing especially sinister.

Unfortunately, Barnes was standing in front of the only exit. So, Jack edged around him while he ranted on about the decline of parental habits, hoping to sneak away. His shaking hand was a breath's away from the handle when Barnes' hand once again met his cheek, sending Jack to the ground.

"And another thing; you should listen to your elders."

"Not when my elders are acting crazy," Jack muttered, earning a kick to the ribs. Despite the clear message to shut up, Jack plowed on. "Or when they leave children to bleed to death in the woods!"

Barnes pause at that before kicking Jack in the stomach this time. Jack groaned and curled up, holding his throbbing torso.

"It's such a shame when a father can't keep his children in line."

"My Da has nothing to do with this."

"You're not to speak!" Barnes snapped with another kick to Jack's stomach. "And he has everything to do with this. He's weak, allowing his children to behave in such ways. Disrespecting elders, taunting, destroying property. It's a joke to fatherhood."

"You're a joke to humanity," Jack countered under his breath.

It was loud enough for Barnes, who once again struck him again and again in the chest and stomach. Jack was a quivering mess by the time the man stopped, shaking on the verge of tears as he lay in a tight ball and tried to relearn how to breathe.

"We'll work on that mouth, first," Barnes decided, panting heavily.

He forced the trembling boy out of his balled position and onto his stomach and removed his shirt. The rough movement aggravated his chest, but the pain was too exhausting for Jack to fight Barnes off. All he could do was lie limp on his stomach in confusion.

The first strike was so shocking that Jack couldn't feel the pain. However the pain of the next was agonizingly clear. By the sixth lash his back was on fire, sending bolts of pain from his chest. By the tenth he was fighting back tears. After that he lost all coherent thought and could only scream. And still the pain continued until he thought he would black out again, or go mad.

"Disrespectful," Barnes spat again, dropping his instrument of whipping – belt, Jack noted numbly – as he stalked back to the fire. "I'm going to teach you respect. In fact, I'm going to _burn_ it into your miserable hide," he declared.

Jack blinked at that, weakly raising his head to follow Barnes' movements. His stomach curled at the pain even that small action sent racing through his spine and he had to blink away the tears clouding his vision before he could really see the man. What he saw made his heart drop to his stomach and freeze. Barnes stood hunched over the fire, prodding the flame with fire rod until the tip came back bright orange with heat. He wouldn't, Jack struggled to reassure himself. But it seemed he most certainly _would_ as Barnes marched back over to Jack's prone form, glowing poker in hand. Jack tried to move away, but his weak limbs refused to carry him and he's hardly lifted himself off the ground when Barnes pinned him back to the ground by his neck, crushing Jack's face into the floor boards.

Jack didn't need to see the old man to know what he was doing. He could feel the heat of the burning metal as it neared his exposed shoulder.

"Stop. Stop, stop, please, stop it, no, no stop it!" Jack's desperate pleas were cut off abruptly by a shriek of pain as a large booted foot slammed into his destroyed back.

"Quiet," Barnes growled, grinding his heel into Jack's thin shoulder blades.

The boy quickly obliged, holding back cries of pain and protest and finally the boot was mercifully removed. Unfortunately it quickly took its previous place at the back of Jack's neck, making the teenager choke and gasp even as he struggled to stay quiet. Stay quiet and stay still; that was what his survival instincts were screaming, so that's what Jack did. It became a much harder task when he felt the sting heat hover over his shoulder once more. Jack swallowed back a whimper – quiet and still to survive – and tensed, trembling in preparation for the pain. For an agonizingly long moment the heat hovered over his shoulder, inching ever closer. Then it vanished all together, along with the foot at this neck.

Jack lay stunned on his stomach, blinking dumbly before pushing himself up with a grunt. What was going on? Had the old man changed his mind? Somehow Jack didn't think he wouldn't be that lucky.

The teenager finally made it to his feet, pain shooting up his back as he moved. When he turned to face Barnes, he found that the old man hadn't so much changed his mind as forgotten about Jack completely. He seemed to have stumbled back, dropping his fire poker to Jack's immense relief and now just stood gaping, staring just over Jack's shoulder in abject horror. Jack sent a glance in the same area and, and finding nothing but shadows, looked back to Barnes in confusion.

"I knew, I knew there was something off about you. But I never imagined," Barnes trailed off, never taking his eyes off the shadows behind Jack.

"What are you talking about?"

Uneasy, Jack cast another look over his shoulder. Still nothing but shadows. Although, and it may have just been Barnes' paranoia catching on, but the shadows _did_ seem darker and thicker around Jack's form. Shaking that thought away, Jack focused back on Barnes, who seemed to remember the boy in the same moment.

"I see your demon, boy. I see what you are."

Was the man getting crazier by the moment, or was it just Jack's imagination? Not important, Jack decided when Barnes moved to close in on him once more. The dark air that had hovered over the man since he'd stepped out of the woods was deepening, becoming darker and more dangerous by the second. And for the first time, Jack legitimately feared for his life. _Run_. The thought whispered across his mind, seemingly of its own will, but it was sound advice and Jack heeded it. He whirled around and made a beeline for the door, pushing himself as fast as his aching body would allow. It wasn't fast enough; Barnes hand's closed over his shoulders and tossed him to the side before Jack was even half way to the door.

The second Jack landed – very jarringly on his side – Barnes was over him, hands clamped over the boy's throat. Jack chocked and gasped and clawed at the man's face as it hovered over his own.

"I see what you are," he repeated in a snarl. "I should have known, should've seen sooner. It's not a poisoned root; it's evil, evil in you. I know what you are. _Witch_."

Barnes launched into yet another rant, or some other proverb, but Jack couldn't tell either way past the pounding of blood in his ears. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe and his vision was darkening around the edges and he fought to stay awake because he knew if he blacked out again, he wouldn't wake up. But the choice was being taken out of his hands. His arms were getting sore and heavy and even as his heart pounded in growing terror, his mind grew fuzzy. He was dying, he realized dimly, and his heart rate sky-rocketed. Forcing his arms back to Barnes's face – on hand at his forehead and the other pressing against his bearded chin – he focused on that terror, the last thing he could really, clearly focus on, and funneled it into one thought: _Get_. _Off_! And he forced it all forward and out just as his sight went totally dark.

It was some time later – a second, a year, an eternity – that blessed air came rushing back to his lungs. Jack convulsed as he took in as much as possible, coughing as he choked on the too large gulps of air – sweet, _sweet_ air! The darkness cleared away with each breath, and as he came back to himself, Jack registered gaping and wheezing that wasn't his own. Turning his head slowly – his thinking still clouded and dulled by the lack of oxygen – Jack's gaze fell on Barnes' form just next to his own. He scrambled back with a frightened gasp, edging away from the man as quickly as he could. It wasn't necessary.

Barnes was hunched in on himself, clutching his chest as he took in pained, wheezing breaths. Jack blinked and watched him, stunned and confused – and still rather unable to move in the aftershocks of strangulation. It was like he couldn't breathe, Jack noted.

_Run_. The thought sounded more and more like it was coming from an outside source; but it was still good advice. Run, get Da, defiantly a good idea. But as Jack pulled himself up to do so, some small, nagging thought in the back of his mind urged him to stay. He glanced back at Barnes, who had collapsed completely on his side as he wheezed, this time in a continuous exhale with the smallest of breaths in between that had Jack worried. He really shouldn't have been concerned; the man had just tried to kill him after all. But still he edged closer, worry and dread pooling in his chest.

_Run_, _Jack_. Yeah, that was definitely an outside voice. But this time Jack ignored it.

"Mr. Barnes?" He asked timidly. The old man didn't answer. Instead he let out another wheezed breath and went limp. He didn't inhale again.

Jack froze in place, just a few feet from Barnes' still body, gapping in the sudden silence. He, he was going to take another breath, right? People had to breathe to live, didn't they? Why wasn't he breathing?!

"Mr. Barnes?" He called again, resuming his timid shuffle forward.

_No, Jack_. This time the thought – voice – was accompanied with a light tug at Jack's arm. Not enough to deter the boy, just to let him know something was there. Any other time that alone would have had Jack scrambling out of the cabin as fast as he could, but not now. Now he was too focused on the still body – still, limp and stiff, like Aidan – as he moved toward it. Why wasn't he moving, why wasn't he taking another breath? Jack hadn't done anything to, he hadn't meant to, what happened?!

_Leave, Jack. Get out_, the voice encouraged again, and still Jack ignored it. He limped over to Barnes and gently nudged the old man off his side and onto his back. Wide eyes stared up at him, blank and cold in death. Jack gasped and stumbled back. He stared in shock at the body before making his way outside, eyes never leaving the body, unable to look away. He sank to the ground when he made it outside, sitting on the steps of Barnes' porch.

The sun was just starting to sink below the horizon; it was late afternoon when he and Mary were on the way home. He'd only been in the cabin and hour, maybe two. Jack dully realized that it meant his father was probably on the way – alone or with a posy of the other village men, it was hard to imagine which – and that he was going home soon. The voice was trying to comfort him, or maybe encourage him to head home, but Jack couldn't hear the words. Couldn't feel relieved that his Da was coming for him. He was cold and numb and shaken.

There was a dead man inside. He'd been hurting Jack, and Jack had wanted him to stop and never hurt him again. And now the man was dead. Jack supposed that made it his fault.

They came for him before night had fully set, coming to a stuttering halt at the sight of Jack just sitting on the steps. William crept forward wearily, kneeling before his son and cupping the boy's tiny shoulders. The other men – Da had brought a posy – crept around them and into the cabin, nervous at what they would find from Jack's eerily familiar behavior. Meanwhile, William tried to ask what happened. And Jack just blinked dully at him. Then the boy pitched forward to weep into William's chest as the comforting warmth of his father's presence broke through the daze of his shock. He thought he apologized; for whatever it was he'd done to Barnes, for being so cruel to his Da, for not saving Aidan. Whether or not he actually said anything, Jack couldn't tell. All that mattered was that his Da was there, and Jack could cling to him as William carried him home. And he could feel safe and warm while he was carried like he was five again.

Jack clung just a little tighter to William and for the first time in months – since Aidan – he felt safe, and loved.

People made it a point to walk on egg shells around Jack after the incident with Barnes. Probably expecting him to slip back into his depression and bitterness, Jack deduced. And he had slipped back, for the first few days. He stayed quiet and huddled in his room, jittery, and nearly unresponsive to the world. But to the surprise and great relief of his family, Jack bounced back by the end of the week. After that, he leaped into a spree of pranking and shenanigans that, to the village, weren't much better than the boy's depression.

It was almost forced fun, very obviously so to anyone observing but Jack threw all of his efforts into it, earning a reprimand from his mother. However, in the end, her warning/reprimand was taken as more of a challenge. He _could_ have fun all the time, thank you very much.

So, when Easter once again came around, for the first time in years – because no matter how brave his actions, the wolf incident was still considered his fault and was not something anyone wanted repeated– Jack played with the other children on the egg hunt. It caused something of a stir at first, but the children were quick to get over it in the place of a fun day with Jack and the adults were too weary of the boy's stability to step in as they normally would. That meant Jack was allowed to get away with much more than he usually would.

In his defense, it wasn't his fault, not really. There were eggs everywhere, some of them hidden just for him. And by that he meant that no one else would have possibly thought to look there, so they had to be for him. It was touching, a sign that the Easter Bunny was still looking after him – even if he'd hadn't seen the rabbit since that night five years ago, or even then really. But, back to the point, it was so not Jack's fault that he ended up giving everyone in the village a heart attack when he scrambled up a tree. There were eggs waiting for him up there! So up he went, ignoring the calls for caution from below.

"Eggs from above!" He called joyously, tossing said eggs down to the waiting hands of the children below. Then he sat perched on the branch, watching the younger ones with a fond smile as they shrieked in joy at the colorful eggs.

"Jack, get down from there!"

Jack glanced down at the worried voice – it almost sounded like mom, except higher in pitch. Then he smiled at the sight of Mary looking up at him with wide eyes.

"You'll fall!" She added.

That made him smirk, idea forming. He let his settle gently backward, calling 'like this?!' as he slipped off the branch and hung there by his knees. Mary let out a frightened yelp, then giggled with the other children when she realized he hadn't fallen to his death. Jack smiled and let the sound washed over him, swinging on the branch with his eyes closed in contentment. There was nothing better than getting a good laugh out of the kids. And they needed it; adult worries were always forced on them far too soon, in Jack opinion.

A loud slow 'craaaaack' the wood of the branch supporting him rang out drew Jack out of his thoughts. Jack winced and peeked up at the limb just as it gave way under his weight. Oh, not good. The branch snapped in half a second after the thought flittered through his mind, sending Jack plummeting to the ground.

He landed flat on his back with a splash of mud, knocking all the air out his lungs. Despite the discomfort, Jack let out a laugh as soon as he had the air to do so. That was great!

"Jack!"

Oh, right. Mary probably didn't find it as funny as he did. He sat up, winced slightly at the twinge in his back, and met his sister's gaze.

"Sorry, Mary. I'm fine." He was slugged in the shoulder by a tiny fist before he even finished the apology.

"I told you, you were going to fall!" She snapped, giving him a pouty glare. Then she stomped back over to their home, obviously intent on tattling to their mother. Jack just smiled and shook his head before levering himself onto his elbows.

"Odd how something so small can pack such an angry punch," Charlie commented as he made his way to Jack.

Although Chris and Charlie had stopped actually participating in the egg hunts years ago – right on schedule with their seventh birthday, in fact – one of the two usually dropped by to watch over the little ones. Just to make sure that no one wandered too far. At least that was the excuse they always used.

Jack smiled up at the taller teen and accepted Charlie's help back to his feet. The thinner teen sent the larger a winning smile, to which Charlie only gave a confused frown. Then the taller brunette shook his head.

"I don't get you," he said finally.

"What do you mean?"

"You spend almost a month sulking after, after losing Aidan." So, Jack wasn't the only one who still had a hard time talking about that. Even now, just hearing it, his throat closed up and his eyes burned. "Then you go off on a rampage on old man Barnes," Charlie continued, clearing his throat and blinking the mist from his eyes. "And after that you're all happy-go-lucky. Then, after Barnes snags you, you just stay with happy instead of going dark-Jack on us. What's with you?"

"It's bad that I didn't go 'dark-Jack'?"

"It would make more sense than this. What happened, it was awful. Why are you acting like nothing happened?"

Jack paused, thinking both the question and his response over. He'd almost gone over back into his depression, had thought about being 'dark-Jack' – and that term was just way too funny for the serious situation— again. In fact, he'd almost wanted to, because what had happened _was_ awful – still gave him nightmares, in fact. But in the end, he'd pulled himself back together, and chosen to live in the lighter side of life. All for one, rather simply reason.

"Because, life's just too damn short and too sad to take it so seriously."

Jack snorted and patted Charlie on the arm as he followed Mary back to the house, leaving the other teen staring after him in bafflement. He walked through the door just as Mary finished telling Abigail exactly how he'd fallen out of the tree, even when she'd told him to get down.

"See!" The seven year old shouted, pointing an accusing finger his way.

Abigail turned to face the boy, shaking her head in amusement and stopped short when she caught sight of him. For a moment, her face slackened and she just stared. Jack stared back in confusion for less than a second before glancing down at himself in discomfort. What had his mother so shocked? Did he have some kind of growth he wasn't aware of?

"Why are you covered in mud?" She asked, voice just above a whisper.

Oh. Okay, yeah he was muddy, so what? He glanced back up, meeting his mother's teary gaze as he tried to piece together what was going on. Then he gave her a soft smile when the answer brushed over his mind: Abigail had thought the days of seeing her son come home covered in mud from a day of fun were long over. But now here he was; happy and smiling and a complete muddy mess. The sight made her heart ache.

"Well, as I'm sure the little lady explained, I fell out of a tree and into the mud," he explained, kneeling down to his sister's level.

"I told you," she repeated sullenly.

"Yes you did. Sorry I scared you."

"I wasn't scared!"

"No, of course not." The protest was much too quick and insulted for her not to have been frightened, but Jack didn't push the point. He just gave her a winning smile and waited.

The seven year old made a valiant effort to keep up her sullen face, but it didn't take long for her to crack. She turned to face Jack full on, smiling and laughing in spite of herself.

"You're a stupid head," she informed him, still smiling.

"I'll have you know I am the _king_ of stupid heads," he countered. The giggle he was answered with expressed that all was forgiven, and for that he was very relieved.

"Go get cleaned up, your highness," Abigail ordered with a laugh, ushering the muddy boy along.

Jack gave her a dazzling smile as he went along, to which Abigail messed his hair fondly in response. She watched him go from the doorway, smiling as both children tried to encourage their elderly dog to run along with them to the well. She sighed happily at the sight before going back inside to tend to dinner, feeling for the first time in months that the light at the end of the tunnel was finally at hand for her family.

William had delayed leaving as long as possible, longer really. No matter how much Abigail encouraged him to go on or Jack ensured him it was fine – because Jack knew he was the reason his father was so hesitant to leave – the man refused to leave the village. His family was on the verge of shambles, and he refused to leave it to fall apart. It was only when the ground began to frost over and he could no longer risk any more delay that William hesitantly left for the city up north. The first snow of the season came right on his heels, sealing the village off from the outside world.

The storm went on for days, and when it was over, the road up north was thoroughly blocked. The village was blocked by snow on all sides and the people thrown into a panic. Supplies were limited and the town's few tradesmen were trapped up north with no chance of bringing more down. As the village was hit by storm after storm and the limited food supply dwindled, fear steadily grew. Talk of starvation spread.

Jack tried to counter the heavy atmosphere to the best of his ability, for the children if no one else. He played with the little ones, kept their hopes up and told them fire-side stories when the storms kept them from going outside. It almost worked. But when outside activities were restricted and everyone held inside, the mood of the village took a dive and there was nothing the teenager could do about it. So instead he focused his efforts on his mother and sister, and hoped it would be enough.

"I wish Daddy was here," Mary whimpered, shivering as she shoveled her meager ration of stew into her belly.

There was no answer across the table but the crackle of the fire. Mary sniffled again. She shoved her empty bowl away and hugged herself as she starred at it longingly, hunger still rumbling hollowly in her tiny stomach. Jack sighed heavily before sending her a smile and rubbed her back. He slowly pushed his own bowl in front of her after another moment of watching her stare at her empty bowl. The little girl look up to him, eyes darting to the bowl in hunger and back to his face in hesitation. Jack only sent her another reassuring smile and motioned to the stew.

"Jack," Abigail warned in concern.

"It's fine, Mom, she can have it. I'm not that hungry," he added, ignoring the gnawing pain his stomach sent him in protest at the denial of food.

Mary didn't need any more reassurance and she ravenously descended on the stew. Jack smiled and urged her to slow down as he continued rubbing her small back. The feel of her prominent shoulder blades under his hand, something he couldn't feel just a week ago, was enough to push the angry growl of hunger from his stomach out of his mind. Mary needed it more.

He looked across the table to send a comforting look to his mother. He shook his head as she tried to send her own food over to him, for once again, she needed it more than he did. How else was Mom going to take care of his baby sister if she didn't get enough food for herself? Abigail frowned in concern.

Jack had picked up a bad habit of giving his rations over to Mary since the food had really begun to vanish. He wasn't getting enough, and it was starting to show. His bony frame was painfully clear. She could count his ribs and see every bone of his spine without his shirt, his thin shoulders now stuck out like spears. His clothes hung on him now, so much that he could almost fit his sister in with him and still have spare room with clothes that were once almost too small for him. He became quick to tire, hardly able to wander about the house without becoming winded. It was painful and terrifying to watch. And there was nothing Abigail could do to get him to stop.

"I think it's time for bed," she decided, pushing those thoughts aside for the time being.

Jack nodded in agreement and pulled Mary along their parents' room – the three had taken to sleep in the same room for warmth, and comfort – calling Tiger Hunter along. Abigail had to steadily ignore how the elderly dog was now able to easily out run the teenager as he waddled to the bed room and instead focused her own strength into clearing the table.

When William's wagon rolled down the road nearly a week after winter's end, when the snow finally cleared, the villagers descended on it like vultures. The man was nearly forced to beat them away, promising the other tradesmen were close behind between calls for his family as he directed the wagon down the road.

Mary and Abigail were waiting on the porch for him when he arrived, both painfully small. Forgetting his wagon of goods – which, fortunately, the villagers had forgotten as well in favor of the others coming down the road – William jumped down and ran to them. He scooped his daughter up in one arm and wrapped the other around his wife, holding them both close and trying not to weep at the feel of their thin bodies in his arms.

"Where's Jack?" He demanded after a moment when he fully realized the boy wasn't with them.

"He's in his room. He's in a bad way, Will."

William blinked at her, staring just long enough to register the words, then passed their daughter to Abigail and raced inside, bolting to his son's room. He shouldn't have left. He _knew_ he shouldn't have left.

Inside, Jack lay on his bed, such a jarring sight from his usually energized boy. Upon closer inspection, William's knees gave out as he realized the stillness was for good reason. His stomach dropped. If Abigail and Mary were thin, Jack was a skeleton that still forced itself to breathe. The boy's skin was pull taunt across his body, clearly displaying the structure of his bones. William was almost afraid to touch him for fear that he would shatter. For a moment he just sat there, unable to move or look away. Then he bolted up and back to the open doorway.

"Abigail!" He shouted frantically, making the boy on the bed behind him jump.

"I'm making the broth now," she called back, voice teary.

Always so in sync with him, his Abigail. He'd feel appreciative for that later; right now he needed to focus on Jack. Who just now noticed his presence.

"Da, you're back."

William winced at the croaked voice, but slowly made his way back to the bed. He knelt at Jack's side, gently taking one of the too-thin hands in one of his own. Jack forced his head, slowly, painfully slow, to the side so his tired eyes – which seemed so much larger in his starved face – met William's.

"What did you do?" William managed to ask after a time of staring onto Jack's eyes.

"Mary needed to eat."

He could feel his Da's heart gave a stutter and he gripped Jack's had just a little too tightly. William let out a long breath and lowered his forehead to rest on Jack's before kissing his brow with a watery smile. His sweet, kind-hearted boy, when would he stop surprising his old man? Jack returned the smile and did his best to squeeze William's hand in comfort. It wasn't as bad as all that, really.

His attempt to convey that was dampened by the fact that he didn't even have the strength to curl his fingers over his Da's.

William smiled proudly when he felt Jack's finger twitch in the attempt and placed another kiss on the teenager's forehead. They sat together like that for another few moments, the only movement being William circular rubbing over the area of Jack's hand, until Abigail came in. William gave Jack's hand a gentle pat before making his way over to his wife and taking the steaming bowl of broth from her.

"Go look after Mary," he encouraged, cupping her face to bestow a gentle, passionate kiss.

Abigail held his gaze for a moment before nodding. Giving him a parting kiss, she left him alone to take care of their son.

-Line Break – Line Break – Line Break-

The only problem with having Da care for him – and don't get him wrong, that was _awesome_! – was that William didn't let Jack do _anything_ by himself. He wanted to a glass of water? Da got it for him. Jack was hungry; Da jumped to get him whatever he wanted. Jack wanted to_ sit up_, Da levered him up and propped the skinny boy up on his newly fluffed pillows. He wasn't allowed to lift up his own arm without help. It was starting to get really annoying.

"Da, come on, I can walk," Jack protested as he was carried out of his room and to the front of the house. Now this, this was the last straw.

Christmas Morning, the most exciting day of any kid's year, and Jack couldn't run out to the tree, bouncing in happiness at the prospect of new toys. Not that he would have had the energy to do so anyway, as walking was still a bit of a chore, even after a near month a proper nourishment, but still! He wasn't even allowed to try because Da insisted on carrying him.

William was just lucky that Jack didn't have energy for anger, either.

"I know. I just like to carry you about like you're my little baby boy again," William cooed, leaning down to peck little kisses along Jack's face.

"Da!" Jack protested with a giggle, shoving William's head away.

"Baby Jack!"

Jack sent a glare to his taunting sister as William set him down by the tree. The little girl stuck her tongue out in response, and Jack returned the gesture. Luckily, karma was on his side today.

"Oh, think it's funny, do you?"

William twirled around and snatched the girl up. Mary squealed and laughed uncontrollably even as she protested William launching into a similar assault of kisses on her face. Jack smiled and sighed as a feeling of pleasant warmth blooming from the center of his chest, feed by the sound of Mary's laughter and the love and content spreading through the room. It was the first time in a long time that Jack had felt such a thing in his family. To feel it now, after so much hardship, made him smile even more, joy singing through his being.

"Alright, let's see what Santa brought," William declared, placing Mary back on the ground.

Mary stifled her giggles and snuggled next to Jack, calling Tiger Hunter to join them. Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close as William distributed the presents. Quite a few more this year. Jack noticed. Not a staggering amount, but still more than normal. And most were the fun presents! Toys and games in colorful wrappings, they even outnumbered the usual useful presents from Mom and Da. Best Christmas ever!

"Jack," William called when all the presents were opened.

Jack looked up from inspecting his new pair of skates – quite the cause for excitement as Mary opened her own new pair and was eager to try them out – and gave his father a questioning gaze. William drew out another package, this one as long as Jack was tall. Jack's eyes lit up as he took the package, ignoring Mary's offended cry that Jack got more gifts than she did. Sending William another look, Jack tore into the packaging. Inside was a long piece of gnarled wood, obviously hand carved and curved at the top. A staff. Just like Da's.

Jack looked up to William, mouth gapping as his finger gingerly ran along the wood of the staff. William smiled in response.

"You're growing up. You have, grown up," he corrected, proud and happy, "so much, so fast. And I think it's time you learn my trade. What do you say? You want to come with me up north, come spring?"

Jack gapped for another moment, processing the request, and its implications. Then he launched himself forward in a very enthusiastic yes, wrapping his arms tightly around William's chest.

"Thanks, Da."

William smiled in response and patted the boy's thin back. Settling back on his heels, Jack studied the staff, holding it close as he ran his fingers along its wood. Ignoring Mary's grumblings, Jack let the warmth of happiness wash over him. He was going to see the world outside his village. His Da was taking him out and the thought had excitement and anxiety chasing each other in his chest. He was going to see the world.

"Jack. Jack, wake up."

The little voice pierced through the blissful, lovely darkness of sleep. Jack groaned and rolled to his other side, attempting to swat away the voice. It just became more insistent with his attempts to ignore it.

"Jack," it whined, "you promised!"

The teenager just gave an incoherent grumble of protest and tried to settle back into sleep. He heard the tiny voice sigh in exasperation before it went silent. And then he was promptly rolled out of bed. He fell to the floor with a cry, landing in a painful thud. Fully awake now, Jack bolted up to glare at the offending voice. Mary met it with her own stubborn, annoyed scowl, little arms crossed.

"You. Promised," she repeated, to which Jack groaned and flopped back to the ground.

Right. That's what this was about. To be honest, he was excited, but Mary had very rudely woken him up before he was ready. He had to keep up the annoyed, grumpy front for just a bit.

"I don't know, Mary. It's seems too early to go out."

"The suns been up for hours! You promised!" She added while Jack tried to puzzle together how she even knew that.

"Sorry, little lady. Just too tired." To illustrate the point, Jack rolled over, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sun light, desperately trying to hide the grin spreading over his face.

Mary fell right into it, whining as she shook his shoulder. Hiding the grin turned to the chore of trying to contain laughter as Mary continuously wailed 'you promised' while shaking him so much he rolled around on the ground. Finally deeming she'd been through enough, Jack peeked up and let her see his grin. Mary froze, stared at him with a gapping mouth, and then slugged him in the shoulder with a laugh. Jack returned the laugh, climbing to his feet and making his way over to where his shoes and ice skates lay, Mary bouncing in front of him all the way.

It was something of a peace offering in the wake of the great insult of receiving more Christmas presents than she. In return that she 'stop the whining!', Jack agreed to teach her ice skating as soon as he was able. It had taken over a month, but Jack was finally capable of walking without assistance and without tiring. Which meant Mary had been hounding him to keep his promise ever since. And now, three days later, they were heading down to the lake.

First, they needed breakfast. Abigail already had everything set out for them, nice and neat as always. Of course, there was no time to enjoy it as Mary inhaled her food and pulled Jack along and out the door before he'd really started on his own food – portage, his favorite. Despite Abigail's reprimand for Mary to slow down, Jack followed along willingly.

"It's fine, Mom. Not that hungry."

Wrong answer. Abigail's face went blank and she froze on the spot, suddenly taken back to just a few months ago, watching her little boy waste away and unable to stop it. Jack swallowed under the wave of emotions and sent her a calming smile.

"I'll eat when I get back," he amended, and the life seeped back into his mother's face.

"Your father and I will meet you too for lunch."

"Well, there you go."

"Jack, honey. Are you sure you don't want to wait until next winter," she asked, imploring the boy to wait. It wasn't anything new; Jack's recovery had pushed the skating adventure back much further than what would be considered safe. It was late winter, heightening the risk of thin ice.

It was a large point of concern in the family.

Jack turned to answer only to have his arm jerked to toward the door by a very eager little sister. He laughed and sent another calming look to his mother.

"I don't think she'll let me live if I try that. Don't worry," he soothed, seeing her insistent look of worry.

Abigail sighed but nodded as she watched the two go. She stood in the doorway as Mary tugged her brother along, worried but fondly happy.

"Be careful," she called half-mindedly.

Jack looked back and laughed at Mary's increasingly insisting pull.

"We will," he promised through his laugh, throwing another few looks of comfort over his shoulder as he went.

She wasn't convinced, but she was calmed. Satisfied, Jack picked up his pace, breaking into a full run to challenge Mary to a race down to the lake, giving a final look back to Abigail to increase her confidence. She returned it this time, and Jack's heart soared and he ran faster, turning away fully from his mother and his house.

It was the last time she would ever see him.

**Not jumping into the memories we saw in the movie, sorry. We all know what happened there. Hope you liked it.**


End file.
